Favorite Things
by kellyn1604
Summary: Max has a new tenant. Can he win over his new resident without her discovering his secret? Lots of cute creepy Max.We're gonna go ahead and pretend that Juliet doesn't exist, which is pretty much my head cannon anyways. I love Max. I don't care if I shouldn't. Lol. Will get really smutty and Max is still a creeper.
1. Chapter 1

Max had first seen her in a coffee shop down the way. She sat next to the window with her laptop and latte. She looked so serene as she watched people walk by with her brown eyes. Every few minutes she would smile to herself and her fingers would tap furiously against her keyboard. Occasionally, she'd pause and twirl a curl of her caramel locks or nibble on her plump rosy lip. She never looked at him. Why would she?

He came back the next day and every day after that. She was always there. She quickly became the highlight of his day. He watched her for 2 weeks. She was always happy and polite to those around her. He wondered who she was and what she did. He wanted to get closer. Smell her perfume. Brush up against her skin.

He didn't work up the courage to speak with her until he saw her frowning at her screen one day. He walked by and saw that she was scrolling through a real estate site. Maybe this was fate. She was supposed to come into his life for a reason. To give his life reason.

"Excuse me," he said trying his best to look her in the eye, "Do you mind if I share your table? Everywhere else seems full."

"Not at all. Please have a seat. They do seem awfully busy today, don't they?" she said with a smile. She extended her hand.

He set down his red velvet cookie and coffee. He tried not tremble as he took hers in his. It was small and warm. Smooth….so soft. Just like he imagined. "I'm Max."

"Avonlea. Most people call me Lee"

"That's an interesting name." He tried to look nonchalant. He finally knew her name. A beautiful unique name. Just like her. He began picking at his food.

"Yeah, my mom loves book Ann of Green Gables," she rolled her eyes.

"Why not Ann then?"

"She didn't want to name me such a common name so…she named me after the town Ann lived in." She smiled again and her eyes turned back to her screen. Her brow furrowed and her lips pursed. He wondered what flavor her lip gloss was. He tried to turn his focus to the taste of his coffee instead.

"Everything okay?" he asked wiping red crumbs off his fingers.

"I having trouble finding an apartment," she sighed, "Not that you need to hear about my woes."

"You have woes?"

"Just typical ones. I need an apartment and I can't find one I can afford in a neighborhood I like."

"What are you looking for?"

"I need a bedroom, kitchen, bath. Safe neighborhood. Good distance from stores and parks and stuff."

"What's your price range?"

"About $3500. That's the problem. Why? You know of something?" Her face lit up. His heart raced. The way she was looking at him. The hope dawning across her features. He shouldn't. He didn't deserve her. But that wouldn't stop him.

"I happen to own a building. $3250 but utilities are extra. It's going through some renovations, but I'll have a rental ready by the end of the week."

"Really? Can I see it?"

"Let me write down the address, and you come take a look tomorrow. See if you're interested." She handed him a piece of paper and a pen. He started jotting down his information.

"Thank you so much…..um, I'm sorry," she blushed.

"Max…I'll write that down too," his dimples showed as his smile reached his eyes.

"Thank you, Max."

He reached across the table to give her back her things. He let his fingers graze hers when she took the writing tools back.

"Well, I best be going if I'm showing you the place tomorrow. It was good meeting you, Avonlea." He picked up his trash and did his best not leave a mess in her space. He knew she liked to keep her table tidy. He'd seen her sweep away crumbs with her dainty hands on more than one occasion. He needed to get to work on the apartment. She needed to like. She had to like it. It was his only chance.

She had viewed the apartment and was astonished that it was in her budget. Max basked in her smiles knowing he was the one that had enabled her joy. She moved in that weekend. He helped her with boxes and furniture. They met his grandfather, August in the hallways and made introductions. Luckily, he didn't scare her away with his cold demeanor.

Hours spent in her presence. The center of her attention. It was one of the happiest days in his recent memory. It should have been enough. He wished it could have been enough. But it never was. He stared at the door in his closet rocking back and forth on his chair willing himself to be strong. And of course, he failed. He was weak. Just like his grandfather always told him.

Max went through the door. He moved through the hidden hallways between the apartments silently. He knew these mazes like the back of his hand. He had played here as a child while August fixed things. It wasn't until he was older that he learned about the peepholes and two way mirrors built into the apartment next door. August tried to cover them up without spending a lot of money using boards. Max should have replaced all the fixtures when he took over ownership, but deep down he knew he wanted them there. Someday he would find the perfect girl for that apartment. Now, at last, it seemed he had.

He opened the small socket in the kitchen. There she was unloading some groceries and singing to music. Her hair was in a wild ponytail. She had taken off the shirt she was wearing early leaving on her tank top that was under it. He noticed something he had never had the opportunity to see. Tattoos. She had beautiful colored tattoos across her shoulders it seem. Maybe flowers or birds. His fingers itched to trace them to discover where they lead to. She finished putting her things away, turned off the music, and left the kitchen. Max fought the urge to follow her.

For the next few days, he had remained strong until something drew him to her. The corridor was hot and cramped in the summer, but Max couldn't resist. He had to see her. To watch her. Every movement was a graceful dance. Every spoken word a song. They played in his mind over and over again repeating themselves until he had to see the real thing. It was smell coming from her apartment that enticed him today.

He heard her before she saw her. Her light voice muffled and distant. He moved to the living room and slid a small knot the woodwork open. She was sitting on the couch crossed legged and talking on the phone.

"Yes, I know I write romance novel….Yes, I know, it's sad that I don't know how to ask a guy out. I'm aware that I write strong independent women…it's fiction. I can't be my fictional characters. I'm just me. Look…I'm baking him some cupcakes. Maybe I'll work up the courage to ask him to dinner. Mom, seriously. I can't say that. Ok, just no. I'm hanging up now. Goodbye. Love you." She threw her phone down and growled into her hands. She stood up and disappeared into the kitchen.

She was baking for a guy. She wanted to ask him out. Why? Why did this always happen? He thought she was perfect. How could she not see that they were meant to be together? Tears were forming in his eyes. He raked his hands through his dark hair and down his scruff covered jaw. He retreated back to his room. He was met with his reflection in his mirror. Weak. His grandfather was right. He punched the mirror shattering it. Blood dripped from his knuckles. He grabbed a towel and wrapped his hands. He fell onto his bed and wept bitter tears. She was going to be different. And yet, here he was in the same mess he always found himself in. In love with a woman who didn't know he was there.

He didn't realize he had fallen asleep until he woke to the sound of someone knocking. He heard his grandfather's voice at the door.

"May I help you?" August demanded.

"Yes, I was wondering if Max was here?" a small voice asked. It was her. Why was she here?

He rushed to the front door. There she was wearing a dress. Her hair was down. She had some make up on. She smiled when she saw Max.

"I've got it, Grandpa," he said. "Hey, is everything alright?"

"Oh, yes. It's just that…well, you were such a big help helping me find this place then going out of your way to help me move my stuff in…I wanted to say thank you, and I made you these." She held up a plastic container filled with cupcakes. "They're red velvet. I remembered you liked that cookie so I hope they're alright."

"They're my favorite. I can't believe you remember that. You made those for me?" He reached out slowly and took the container.

"Well, yeah," she smiled shyly, "I was also wondering…..oh, nevermind."

"Wondering what?"

"Oh. It's nothing. I should just go. Thanks, Max," she turned to leave.

"Avonlea."

"Yes," she looked over her shoulder.

"Would you like to have dinner with me?"

She smiled brightly. He soaked it in. The cupcakes were for him. She had wanted to ask him to dinner. She was interested in him. He felt 10 feet tall.

"Sure. Why don't I cook for us?"

"Great. I'll bring dessert." He winked at her and held up the cupcakes.

She laughed, "That sounds great. I'll see you at 7?"

"7 it is."

He watched her walked down the hall. She gave him a little smile as she entered her apartment. She was going to be his and it was going to be perfect.


	2. Chapter 2

Max showered and tended to his injured hand. He had few cuts but, hopefully, Avonlea wouldn't notice. He dressed in a white button down shirt and some jeans. He wasn't sure what to wear. His nerves were starting to get the best of him. He was pacing. At this rate he would work up a sweat if he didn't calm down. He needed to buy her a gift. He had seen her drinking wine. That was something people bought for these types of things.

He walked into the living room where August sat staring at the television. Since his strokes in the past year, his health had deteriorated and left him even more bitter and angry than he was before. His life had been filled with disappointment and tragedy. In his mind, the world owed him for his suffering, but had only repaid him with a grandson that reminded him of the man that took his daughter from him.

"August, I'm going out for dinner. There's left overs in the fridge. Let's do your medicine before I leave."

"Out for dinner?" August sneered, "You mean you're going to the new tenant's apartment. You think you'll be able to keep this one? She'll realize what you really are and leave. Just like the other one."

Max tried not to let his eyes fill with tears. Any show of weakness in front of August always resulted in physical pain. Luckily, now the worst he could manage was a slap. The best Max could do was remain silent and hope that August would move on.

"You're not going to defend yourself? It's because you know I'm right. What woman would want a weak pervert like you?"

Max loaded the syringe, cleaned the area with some alcohol, and gently placed the needle under his grandfather's weathered skin. He knew his grandfather was right. He was weak. He was perverted. It was the reason he was going to dinner. He couldn't stay away from her. Maybe, just maybe, she wouldn't leave.

"Goodnight, August," he left his grandfather alone in the apartment. He went out in the hallway and stood outside her door. He leaned his against the wood breathing deeply….knowing she was inside helped calm him. She wanted to see him. She was cooking for him…for them…not someone else. That thought was enough for him to gather his courage and go buy the wine he had thought of earlier.

An hour or so later, he had two bottles of wine. He had found the wine bottle he had seen in her apartment. It was easy to find being the only white wine with polka dots up the neck of the bottle. A bubbly moscato. He had also gotten himself a cabernet sauvignon. He snuck back into his apartment to get the cupcakes. August had fallen asleep in his chair.

Again, he found himself outside her door. One arm cradled two bottles of wine, the other held the container of red velvet treats. He tried to balance everything in one arm as he awkwardly knocked three times and held his breath. He heard locks click and a chain rattle before the door opened cautiously. Her brown eyes peeked through the crack before the door swung wide open.

"Hi," she said with a shy smile.

"Hi," he gave her a dimpled lopsided grin as he looked down at his feet.

"Oh, you brought wine! That was so thoughtful. You didn't have to do that. Here let me take something." She grabbed the container of cupcakes and held the door open for him. "Come on in, Max."

He followed her inside. Her apartment was lit with the soft glow of sunset through the windows and lamps on end tables and in corners instead of the overhead lights. Her furniture was plush in shades of light greys, blues and greens. She had a large desk in what would have been the dining room. Stacks of papers, folders, and colorful pens cluttered the top. They reached the kitchen with a small distressed wood table with matching chairs. It was already set with mismatched tableware. He could smell garlic and spices. It smelled amazing.

"Hope you don't mind eating in here. I turned my dining room into my office. I typically don't entertain a lot."

"It's fine. It smells really good in here." He could see a casserole dish with lasagna cooling on top of the oven. A plate with garlic bread and a bowl of Caesar salad. She had gone through a lot of effort just for him. He wondered if he would be able to eat with all the flutters in his stomach. "It looks really good too."

"Hopefully, it tastes good," she giggled nervously. "Um. Let me get a bottle opener and some glasses."

He placed the bottles on the counter and watched as glided through the kitchen gathering things they needed. She was still wearing the dress from earlier. It had a floral pattern with thick shoulder straps and a zipper down the back. Her hair was pulled up now though in a mass of curls. He could see her tattoos peeking through. Flowers. They were definitely flowers. He could see the edges of petals in shades of pink and blue. The leaves were green and seemed to twirl away from the rest of the flower. If only he could pull the zipper, he would be able to see the rest of her artwork. He hadn't yet descended into watching her in intimate situations like bathing. He could feel the pull and knew it wouldn't be long. He hated himself for how excited those thoughts made him.

She reached for one of the bottles, "Oh, this is my favorite! How did you know?"

He blushed and shrugged his shoulders, "I just picked a white with a cute label. I'm glad you like it though."

"Do you want white or red?" she looked expectantly at him.

"Red. Your moscato is too sweet for my taste."

"Yeah, I have a really bad sweet tooth in all things…alcohol included," she laughed as she poured then opened the other bottle. She handed Max his glass. She walked over the table, set her glass down, and grabbed the plates. "This is going to be buffet style, so just help yourself. There's plenty. I figured I could just send some of it home with you. I thought maybe your grandfather might like some."

"I'm sure he'd appreciate that. I rarely make anything as nice as this."

They served themselves and took their plates back to the table. Conversations was light as they ate. Mostly just him complimenting the food, her saying thank you, and telling him things like what ingredients she used in the sauce. It seemed both were too nervous to eat and talk at the same time. They alternated stealing glances at each other blushing furiously each time they caught each other's eye.

Finally, after eating most of his food and drinking a glass of wine, Max was able to ask her some more personal questions even if he already knew most of the answers.

"So, Avonlea, what do you do?"

"I'm a writer and editor."

"What do you write?"

"Some freelance things for websites," she added in a mutter, "And some books."

"You've written books? As in plural?"

"Um, yeah."

"And they've been published? What kind of books?"

"Ok, here it goes," she sighed, "I write historical romance novels. I have been published for the last 5 years. I written 10 books so far."

"Why do you seem embarrassed?"

"Well I, typically, don't like to talk about it, because people like to tell me how that's not legitimate writing, and men tend to either feel intimidated or think I'm a super freak then start getting weird and pushy. "

"I could see how that could happen, I guess. I think it's great."

"You do?"

"I've always admired people who could do creative things. Writing…art…it takes special kind of person to hone those talents and to put themselves out there. If it were easy everyone would do it. So, it shows me that you have real talent and have worked hard to achieve success." He looked up from his plate to see her blushing with a slight smile playing across her face as she looked at him.

"Thank you. No one has ever said that to me before. I've always had to defend my writing."

"It's not easy to have an interest that many consider taboo."

"Oh really? What's your taboo interest?" she teased.

"Me? I read historic romance novels." He winked at her.

She laughed and swatted his arm, "You do not."

He loved her laugh. It was light and airy. It made her eyes seem brighter. "No," he admitted, "But I might read yours. It'd be interesting to see what kind of brain hides behind that sweet face."

"You'd be sorely disappointed."

"I doubt that." He stood from the table and started reaching for her plate.

"What are you doing?"

"I'm going to do the dishes."

"Max, you're my guest. You can't do the dishes."

"Yes, I can. You made this wonderful meal. I'm not leaving you with all these dishes to do later after everything sets and hardens. You can start putting the rest of the food away though. Then you can come and dry the pots and pans." He looked at her and saw her pouty frown. He smiled gently and said, "Please, let me help."

"If you insist on making my life easier…I guess I won't complain." She grabbed her phone and put on a music app.

He grabbed her glass. Her lips had left behind her red lip gloss. He could see lines like finger prints unique to only her and ran his fingers over it imagining it was her mouth.

"Sorry," she said when she saw him staring at her lip prints. "Hazard of make-up. I'll wash it if it's being difficult."

"No—no, I got it." Reluctantly, he washed the evidence of her kiss away with a soapy sponge and warm water.

They worked together getting the kitchen cleaned. After she finished putting away the food, she stood next to him at the sink. Shoulder to shoulder they washed and dried the dishes. She'd hum or sing quietly with the music. He could feel the heat of her skin through his sleeves. Her perfume smelled like pears, roses, and vanilla. He didn't want this moment of domestic bliss to end. This is how it should be. Two people together. Happily doing everyday tasks with each other.

As she dried the last pot she asked, "Would you like some coffee to do with dessert? I have decaf, if you like."

"That'd be great."

She brewed a pot and soon the kitchen was filled with the aroma of ground beans. He would forever think of her whenever he smelled coffee. They took their cupcakes and coffee to the living room to enjoy on the couch. They placed their hot mugs on the coffee table and their plates rested on their laps.

"So, where are you from?" Max asked.

"I lived in a small rural town just outside the city. Close enough to make day trip for whatever needs come up, but far enough to have space. My parents have some acreage and they let me move into the guest house while I went to school and wrote."

"Why did you move here?"

"Well, it was actually for work. I wanted to try to branch out into contemporary romance. I had an idea for one, but it takes place in a big city. I've never lived in one before, so I thought I should experience it firsthand that and my mom was dying for me to go live a little. I saved a lot of money living at parents for so long. I figured out a budget between what I make at my day jobs and my savings. I have enough to do this for a little while. Hopefully, I can write what I need to sooner rather than later."

"Then you're just going to leave?" His heart was already breaking. She just came into his life. She couldn't leave.

"I'm not sure. I would have to have a really good reason to stay."

Their eyes met briefly then both turned their attention to their cupcakes. Max moaned as he bit into his. "This is so good."

"Thanks. So, Max. Tell me about yourself. How did you become the owner of this building?"

He frowned. He didn't like to talk about his past. He didn't want to scare her away with the dark story of his parents. "My family bought the building in the 40's."

"And you own it now with your grandfather?"

"Yes."

"May I ask where your parents are?"

"The passed away when I was little."

"Oh, I'm so sorry, Max." She reached over and placed her hand over his injured one. He tried not to flitch. She was touching him. He didn't want her to stop even if it stung. Her thumb rubbed over his knuckles and stopped.

"What happened to your hand?" She grabbed his wrist with one hand and opened his fist with the other. Her hand ran over his palm, flipped his hand and started delicately studying his injury as she her fingers trailed up and down his long fingers.

"I just cut myself. Occupational hazard working with tools and sharp objects. I just wasn't paying attention," he managed to say trying not to be too dazed by her attentions.

"Does it hurt? Do you need ointment or a band aid?"

He smiled at her concern, "I'm fine really." He reluctantly pulled his hand from hers and place his hands in his lap strategically hoping to conceal his growing arousal. "So, how do you like living in the big city?"

"It's loud and crowded."

"Yeah. The F train probably doesn't help."

"It's pretty crazy. I had to find a sleeping pill to help me at night. Knocks me right out. I sleep like the dead now. I haven't heard that train in 2 nights."

Max's heart stopped. As if he didn't already have enough temptation. He needed to go before he ruined the rest of the date.

"Are you okay?"

"Um…yeah, I should probably go though. I need to check on August."

"Oh, okay. I'll just….I'll just go get your left overs then." She walked to the kitchen as he made his way towards the door. She had sounded disappointed. What was he doing? He was leaving before he could make a major mistake like kissing her or touching her. He wouldn't be able to control himself much longer. He needed to do this right. Take his time. The slower he went, the longer it would be before she figured out he wasn't worth it.

"Here you go." She handed him some containers and opened the door for him. "I had a really nice time tonight."

He walked through the threshold and turned around to face her. "So, did I."

She looked up at him and took as step closer. Her hand reached up for his cheek and she pressed her lips to his. He froze. She was kissing him. He never imagined she would kiss him. Her lips were soft. They still tasted faintly of red velvet and the remains of her cherry flavored lip gloss. She pulled back before he could respond. Her face was hidden as she looked at the ground and said softly, "Oh, ok then. Good night, Max." and closed the door.


	3. Chapter 3

Max stood and stared at her door. He put the food containers on the ground and knocked with a new found determination. Avonlea answered her eyes barely able to meet his. He crossed the threshold, wrapped an arm around her waist, and pulled her body against his. His other hand caressed her neck. His thumb resting lightly along her jaw. He bent forward and gently pressed his lips against hers. His mouth moved in slow open kisses coaxing her lips apart. His tongue softly dipped into her mouth. Her body relaxed, and her hands traveled up his chest, around his neck, and into his hair. She pulled him closer as her tongue began to move with his. He pressed his lips harder against her. Their movements became frenzied in their passion. Their bodies pressed against each other in search of friction. She moaned into his mouth. A hair's breadth away from carrying her to the bedroom, Max pulled back. He leaned his forehead and against hers as they both sought to catch their breath.

That's what should have happened, Max thought to himself. Instead he was leaning his forehead against the inside of her wall listening to her tell her mother about their date and its disastrous end.

"I don't know. Maybe I just read the situation wrong. Maybe he wasn't actually interested….. He was probably just being nice. Ugh, I don't know…Mom, I don't think he's gay. Just because a guy isn't interested doesn't mean he's gay…Yeah, he's older…Yeah, he lives with his grandpa…..NO! I don't think he's a closet queen. C'MON MOM! You aren't making me feel better. I really thought he might've liked me…..I'm so embarrassed. How am I supposed to face him? He's my landlord and my neighbor…..Plastic surgery seems a bit excessive but I'll keep that in mind….Ok, I'll talk to you later….love you too, Mom."

Avonlea put down the phone with a sigh and walked out of the living room. Max was about to leave when he heard the sound of water running through the pipes. He brought his hands in front of his chest and wrung them fighting the urge to follow the sound he recognized. The tub in the apartment was filling.

As always, his need to watch, to be a part of her world was too strong for him to resist. He quietly made his way over to the two way mirror and sat on his chair. She was still dressed and adding what looked like oil to the water flowing from the spout. She moved over to the cabinet opposite the mirror and began to pull out a new towel that she threw on the chair she had place in the far corner nearest the tub. Her arms reached behind her and began to unzip her dress. Each inch of skin revealed was creamy and smooth. She pushed the straps over her shoulders and down her arms. Her tattoos were pink and blue lilies arranges across her upper back and shoulder blades. The design was feminine and delicate. He thought it was beautiful.

Avonlea pushed her flowery dress off her hips. It fell to the floor. She stepped out of the flowy material still facing away from Max in nothing but a beige strapless bra and thong. Her hips were curvy and her thighs thick at the top. Her hands reached behind her once more to unhook her bra. She flung it into the hamper. Next, her thumbs slid under the edge of her panties, and she bent forward as she slid them down her body. In the shadow between her legs, he could just make out her smooth slit. He leaned forward and rested his chin in his hands, fingers covering his mouth in suspense.

She straightened up and turned glancing at herself in the mirror. Her mound between her legs was smooth except for a strip of dark brown hair in the center. Max's eyes traveled up her body and widened when he saw two silver balls on either side of her perky pink nipples. She was pierced. His arousal was becoming painful. He started palming himself through his pants. She was perfect. Curvy and soft. Edgy and unique.

She turned the water off and stepped into the tub sinking down into the water then immediately reclining against the back. Max moved to see through the small open vent next to her bathtub. He watched her hands gently rubbed her neck, down her shoulders trying to relieve some of her tension. Her fingers glided down her collarbone and over her breasts. She cupped their full weight lifting them higher as she gave them a small squeeze. Her fingertips traced her areolas and gently began to rub her nipples. She hummed at the pleasurable sensation.

Her hand left her nipple setting its course south beneath the water beyond Max's vigilant gaze. Ripples in the water were the only confirmation that her hand was moving beneath the glassy surface. He could only imagine her fingers slipping between her wet folds. Rubbing her clit in small circular motions. Two fingers sliding in and out of her pussy.

Her brow furrowed. Her head tilted back. Small distant moans filled Max's ears. Suddenly, Avonlea's back arched. She gasped as she grabbed the edge of the tub bracing herself as her climax washed over her.

Max watched Avonlea's body slump back in the water. Her eyes closed. Her breath coming in short pants. She soaked for another 15 minutes before she decided her bath was done and she pulled the drain. He moved back to the chair in front of the mirror and watched her step out of the tub and wrap a teal towel around her chest.

She kicked a wooden stool in front of the mirror and grabbed a bottle of lotion from the counter. She started rubbing lotion on her still damp arms focusing on the elbows. She placed her foot out to the side on the stool, her towel gaped slightly open. She rubbed lotion onto her shins and calves. As she bent over, her towel fell. She ignored it and straightened up as she massaged her thigh.

Max dropped to his knees like the most devout disciple at the sight of her wet pink folds open and exposed before him. He quickly began to undo his pants finally freeing his erection. His hands pumped up and down his long thick shaft. He stroked himself as he watched her hands spread lotion all over her body. His mind started imagining his hands and mouth exploring her curves. Breathing in her scent. Tasting her. Touching her. His climax hit hard, and he bit his lip as he contained the moan that tried to escape.

The bliss of release was quickly consumed by torment of shame. He was in a dark hidden maintenance hallway covered in sweat and cum. How could he possibly bring himself to taint Avonlea with his touch? She deserved so much better than him. But how could he possibly let her go?


	4. Chapter 4

After his episode in the passageway, Max was only too happy to let Avonlea avoid him for a day or two. He wasn't sure he could face her yet anyways. He still watched her and listened to her during the day. He avoided her bathroom and was successful at staying away while she slept.

He had learned so much about her in that time. She woke up early and wrote for an hour or two while drinking coffee every morning. She went out for errands after that. When she returned with groceries or dry cleaning, she would make herself a light lunch. Usually a salad with chicken or shrimp. Then she would clean while talking with her mom. That was his favorite part of the day. The conversations were hard to follow. They changed topic frequently without notice, and he always felt like most of what they said was an inside joke. It was worth the confusion just to hear her laughing. Light twinkling giggles or loud belly cramping bursts that would dissolve in tears. Every sound of joy was infectious. He'd sit in the darkness smiling until his cheeks burned. The thoughts of those laughs gave him reasons to smile the rest of the day.

Today, however, was the day he would see her again and explain his reaction. He would ask her out, and she would say yes. They would spend a wonderful evening together, and he would have a second chance.

Max was waiting in the lobby pretending to work on the old reception desk. He knew she would be down soon to go run her errands. She was late today. He finally heard the elevator and turned to watch her descend.

Avonlea was wearing black heels, no hose on her legs, the tops of her knees were touched by a dark grey pencil skirt, and her white blouse was unbuttoned at the neck showcasing a silver necklace. Her hair was straightened and down to the bottom of her shoulder blades. Her make up looked fresh and clean. With her, she carried a bright red messenger bag.

She left the elevator and stopped when she finally saw Max. She flushed and sighed but walked towards him anyway. "Hey, Max."

"Avonlea. You look really nice."

"Oh, thanks. Look, Max, I really just need to get something off my chest. I'm so sorry for kissing you the other ni—"

"No," he interrupted, "I should be the one to apologize."

"What? Why?"

"I didn't handle it the way I should have…the way I wanted to. I was, honestly, shocked. I didn't think anyone like you would ever like someone like me."

"Really? But you're so great."

His eyes looked to the floor as blushed and smiled. As he brought his eyes back up his heart stopped at the sight of her smile.

"How about I make it up to you and take you out for a real date tonight?" he asked.

"Oh—I'm sorry. I can't tonight. I already have plans." She looked down at her watch and added," I'm actually already running late. Can I take a raincheck and we'll plan something soon?"

"Sure—yeah—of course," he muttered.

"Great. Thanks, Max. I'll see you later!"

Max watched her leave the building and went to his apartment. That was not how it was supposed to go. She was supposed to say yes. She never went out in the evenings. Did she really have plans or was she blowing him off? He walked into his room, put on his gloves, and walked through his closet into the secret hallway to the door leading into her kitchen.

Her apartment was quiet and smelled faintly of coffee and cinnamon rolls. He needed to calm down. His emotions were overstimulating his brain. He went to her bathroom. He found her jar of lotion, unscrewed the top, and inhaled the soft aroma. _This is what her skin smells like._ He opened her shampoo and took another deep breath. _This is what her hair smells like._ He took her toothbrush and ran in along his teeth and tongue. _This is what her kisses will taste like._

Originally posted by jdm-negan-mcnaughty

He put all her belongings back and went to the living room. He looked at her movies and books. She had pictures of her family on her shelves. Smiling happy pictures around birthday cakes. Graduation photos with proud parents hugging her. He imagined his picture up there next to the others. Eventually, pictures of their family replacing the ones currently there.

Max walked over to her desk. It was the one place in the apartment that was cluttered and messy. She had stacks of notebooks and post-its everywhere. Some of them had ideas randomly scribbled down. Others had organized detailed plot outlines for various chapters. Her planner lay open on top of the mess. Her days were divided into color coded blocks of time. Most of her days looked the same at a glance. Today was different. She had meetings scheduled for most of the afternoon. Tonight, she had written "Dinner w/ Jason Mario's."

Who was Jason? Did she have a date? Is that why she blew him off earlier? Rain check? So many emotions flooded his mind. Hurt, jealousy, and finally, rage. His vision started going black. He quickly bit his arm, hard enough to leave deep marks but not to break the skin. Physical pain made his emotional pain easier to sort through. He knew what he had to do.

That evening he found himself across the street from Mario's watching Avonlea and Jason. They talked and laughed as they ate. Avonlea seemed perfectly comfortable in his presence. It was obvious that Jason was interested in her. He kept refilling her wine glass which she didn't touch. He wouldn't let her pay even though she reached for the bill. And as he helped her into her cab, he kissed her on the cheek. Jason turned the other direction and started walking. Max followed.

The next morning Max heard a knocking at his door. He opened it to see a red eyed Avonlea looking up tearfully at him. He stepped out in the hallway and shut the door behind him away from August's prying eyes.

"Avonlea, what's wrong?"

"I need to ask a favor."

"Sure, anything."

"Could you go grocery shopping with me?"

"Um….sure." He furrowed his brows in confusion.

"It's just," her eyes welled up with tears, "My agent was attacked last night at the train station and the police may think it has something to do with me." She scrubbed her eyes wiping away the unshed tears.

"Your agent?"

"Yeah….Jason. He helps me deal with publishers."

"And why do the police think you have anything do it with it?"

"Well, he about to go down some stairs and a man pushed him. He said, 'She's not yours'. He's married with a baby on the way, and we had just had dinner after some business meetings. So…," she shrugged her shoulders, "I've gotten one or two crazy letters from fans but nothing like this. I'm not even that popular. The police said there is nothing they can do right now, because they don't have any leads or any hard evidence that this could be about me."

"Did Jason get a look at the guy?"

"No, he was pushed from behind and it happened just out of the security camera's view. The police have nothing to go on. Anyways, I am just so freaked out about this, but I need to get food. I just don't know what to do. Would you mind? I really don't want to go by myself, and I would feel better if you went."

"Really?" he asked.

"Well, yeah. I mean your tall and I'm pretty sure that's not a dad bod you're hiding under all that," she said. He chuckled and blushed. "Besides," she continued, "you're a good guy. I'm typically really good at reading people, and I just feel safe with you. Please?"

"Of course. I'll always help you with anything."

"Thank you so much." She started tearing up again.

"Don't start that," he said and he place one hand on her shoulder and wiped a tear off her cheek, "What time did you need to go?"

"What time would work for you?"

"I can go now if you need to."

"Thanks, Max. I'll just go get my purse."

He watched her walked down the hallways and enter her apartment. Only when she was out of sight did he hold up his hand and lick her tear from his thumb savoring the salty wetness and promised that he would never make her cry again.


	5. Chapter 5

Max waited in the hall for Avonlea. She returned a few minutes later. She wore jeans and t-shirt from a band he had never heard of. She had a purse and was pulling a rolling bag cart behind her. Her eyes were still red and puffy, her cheeks tear stained. It broke his heart knowing he was the cause of it, but if the results were her depending on him, then it was all worth it in the end.

They walked together in relative silence 2 blocks to the local grocery store. Avonlea looked around nervously down the street and over her shoulder watching and waiting for any sign of her possible stalker.

He reached out and put a hand on her shoulder. "Relax, its broad daylight. You're walking with me. Nothing is going to happen."

"Oh no…what if he comes after you next?" She looked at him with wide eyes. His heart fluttered at the genuine concern in her eyes.

"I promise you, I will be fine. C'mon. Let's go get your food." He held open the door to the store open for her and followed her in.

She stood over to the side of the entrance near community bulletin board with her little cart and pulled out her planner. She had a list written in order of isle and food type. She pursed her lips and tapped them with her fingers as she mentally made a plan for a path through the store. She set out to her first destination and Max shadowed her. He watched her as she consulted her list and scanned the shelves. She read labels, compared prices and ingredients. Occasionally, he would reach things on the higher shelves for her when her tippy toes failed her.

"So, you like to have things organized?" he asked, pointing to her planner.

"No—I mean, it's not a 'like' per se. If I don't write things down, I won't know what I need to do. I get ideas for stories or start writing, and I completely lose sight of what I need to do. Cleaning, eating, paying bills…I forget about all of it when I am in my head… or I remember them at completely inconvenient times. I have to have my lists and alarms for everything. I'm a mess." She laughed and shrugged her shoulders.

"No, there's nothing wrong with that. If you were a mess, you wouldn't make your lists at all. It shows me that you have a good grasp of your strengths and weaknesses."

She smiled and they continued shopping. He asked her questions about her childhood. She regaled him with stories of being chased by roosters, sleeping in a tent in her backyard for the summers, being the weird kid in school, because her parents were loud and very open minded in a small rural town.

Soon, too soon for him, she had what she needed and paid for her things. She had pulled two bags in her cart and he carried the third. She seemed less anxious now. Someday, they would be planning meals and menus together. Shopping together. Arguing over whether the strawberries looked good or not. He smiled to himself.

He was pulled from his daydreams when she said, "So, tell me about your childhood, Max."

"Well, there isn't much to tell. My parents died when I was young. I grew up in the building with August. I mainly just tried to stay out of his way. I spent most of my time in the building. Sometimes there were other kids to play with but not always."

"That sounds kinda lonely."

"It was."

"Why aren't you married?" she blurted. "Oh god, I'm sorry." Her hand flew to her forehead. "That was really really rude of me. You don't have to answer that."

"No, it's okay. I was engaged once, but she decided this wasn't the life she wanted." _I wasn't what she wanted._

"What? What's wrong with your life? I mean, you own prime real estate, you're your own boss, you're nice and easy on the ey-" She stopped herself and blushed.

He smiled at her admissions. She actually had a list of positive things to say about him. He knew she would be special to him, that she was meant for him. "Well, there is a lot of maintenance involved in an old building like this one, so there's a lot of complaints. She didn't want to deal with any of that. She wanted someone with a nine to five job separate from the home life. There was a lot of things she didn't like towards the end."

"Sounds like you're better off. How could she choose convenience over you?" She looked at him then quickly smiled at her shoes. "I just mean—It just sounds—crap. She sounds selfish. You deserve better than that."

"She was, and I am better off. But I guess that I just haven't met anyone since that… got me."

"I know how hard that can be." She laughed and bumped his arm with her shoulder. He felt his mouth spread into wide smile his dimples peeking through his short beard.

They reached their building and ascended the elevator. He walked her to her front door. She opened it and set the groceries just inside. She seem hesitant to cross the threshold. "Thanks again for going with me. I'm sorry I'm such a scaredy cat."

"Avonlea, you never have to apologize especially for something lets me spend time with you. Um…if you're up for it, would you like to go out with me tonight?"

"Yes. That would be wonderful."

"Great. I'll swing by around 7. What you're wearing is fine, but bring a light jacket in case it gets cool."

"What are we doing?" she asked.

"It's a surprise."

"Ok…"she said with a suspicious grin. "I'll see you later then."

"Yeah. If you need anything, anything at all, you call me ok."

"Ok. Thanks."

She closed the door. He knew exactly what he wanted to take her to. He needed to do his own shopping. He thought about checking on August before he went out again but decided against it. He was happy. He wanted this feeling to last a little longer.

Max looked at himself in the mirror. He ran his fingers through his thick hair. It was naturally messy but luckily, that was the style now. He wore a dark grey t-shirt, jeans, and some black shoes. He checked his watch. It was time. He could finally get Avonlea for their date. He snuck past August sleeping in his recliner and left his apartment.

He knocked on the door with a blanket and basket in hand. She opened the door. He noticed right away she had changed her clothes. Her t-shirt was replaced with a green flowing blouse with a camisole underneath and her tennis shoes with ballet flats. Her hair was pinned back away from her face with some bobby pins. She had a light jacket in her arms and purse over her shoulder.

"You look beautiful."

"Thanks. You look pretty good yourself." She winked then her eyes locked on the items in his arms. "What are we doing? Are you taking me on a picnic?"

"Not exactly. Right this way, Avonlea." He walked her to the elevator.

"Max?"

"Yeah."

"Why do you call me Avonlea? Everyone else just calls me Lee. It's okay if you do too."

He stared at the ground for a minute. "I think your name is pretty." He looked up into her eyes and said, "And I don't want to be just everyone."

She met his gaze. "You're not."

They stared at each other until the elevator opened. They left the building and Max hailed a cab. He opened the door for her and slid in behind her, the basket and blanket on his lap. He slipped a piece of paper to the driver with the address.

Avonlea craned her neck to see. "You're really not going to tell me where we're going?" She laughed.

"I said it was a surprise," he teased.

They rode in the taxi for a few minutes. It dropped them off a large park just outside of walking distance. Max exited the cab and helped her out of the car. He paid the driver and offered her his arm. She slipped her hand around his elbow and they started walking. It wasn't long before she saw their destination.

Further down the path there was a large open venue. It had a stage that was usually used for musical performances, but tonight, it had a large screen on it. Every so often, in the summer, the park would show movies, family friendly movies in the afternoon and classics in the evening. They found a vacant spot among other couples and a few families. He spread out the blanket and they both took a seat.

"We're watching a movie? With a picnic?" she asked.

"Yeah, I hope that's okay."

"Of course it is! What movie?"

He pulled out a flyer from his back pocket and handed it to her.

"Arsenic and Old Lace? Cary Grant is my favorite!"

He knew this, of course. He had seen her collection of his movies in her apartment. When he saw the flyer this morning at the grocery store he took it and hoped she would say 'yes'.

"I grew up watching a lot of his movies with August," said Max. "He really loves the classics." And showing him how real men acted. They took what they wanted. They never let a woman dominate them. Max was never able to cultivate the bravado his grandfather demanded. But he'd brave watching the movies that reminded him of his many failings as a man if it made her happy. Anything to make her happy.

"So, how is August? Is he okay or is he sick?" she asked.

"He had a stroke about a year ago and his health has deteriorated since. Before all that we were partners and made all the decisions together. "

"That must be hard on you… both of you."

"Well, he raised me so I owe it to him to take care of him."

"Must be difficult for him. He seems like he used to be a force to reckon with and to become so frail…"

"Frail?"

"For all his intimidating looks, he kinda looks like a strong wind might knock him down. I can't imagine a man like that would appreciate losing his strength. Sorry, I tend to make up backstories for people. Occupational hazard."

"It's alright. You're not far off. I guess I've just never seen him as weak before. But you're right. He is frail, and he's been angry with the world for the last year." _As opposed to just me,_ he thought.

The film started playing. As Avonlea watched the movie light up the big screen, he pulled out food from the basket. Sandwiches from a deli. No mayo for her. She had mentioned her dislike of the condiment while shopping. Some chips and fruit salad cups. For desert, the iced cookies she had eyed but declined even though he had tried to convince she should treat herself. Two bottles of sparkling water because caffeine in the evenings interfered with her sleeping pills according to a conversation with her mother.

"Oh my god, Max! This is amazing. You didn't have to go through so much trouble." She laughed as she held up the containers of cookies. "Really? I was trying so hard to be good."

"You don't have to be good around me," he said, smiling. "And I wanted to do this for you. You had such a hard morning—"

Her body stiffened and she immediately looked around her hands wringing in her lap.

"Hey." He reached out and took one of her hands in his. "You're safe. You've got me. I would never let anything happen to you. And I spot at least 5 officers walking around monitoring the event."

Her shoulders slumped with a sigh. "You're right. Of course." She shook her head then looked at him. "This is so perfect, Max. Thank you."

They ate and watched the movie. She peppered him with trivia about the movie she had heard on dvd commentaries, gossip about the actors, and general history of Hollywood's Golden Age. He drank in her attention, occasionally chiming in with a question or two to keep her talking. She was lovely and animated when she was passionate about a topic. Her eyes sparkled, her smiles flowed freely, and her hands danced in the air, punctuating the story she told.

After the movie, they packed up and grabbed another taxi home. She leaned her head on his shoulder. He slowly moved his arm around her. He held his breath, waiting for her to reject his attentions. To his delight, she sidled up closer to him. The cab ride was too short. He took her hand once again to help her out of the cab. She didn't let go this time as they walked in to the apartment building opening the door for them since his other hand was still carrying their blanket and basket. She even pushed the buttons for the elevator. She didn't let go until they reached her door and she had to find her keys. He set their picnic things down and watched as she fiddled in her purse. She found them buried at the bottom and unlocked her door. She opened the door all the way, took a step in, and turned.

"I had an amazing time tonight. This was the best date I've ever been on," she said.

"It's technically not over." He took a step towards her closing the distance between them.

"It's not?" Her voice was breathy and light.

He cupped a large hand on her cheek the rough pads of his fingers caressing her soft skin. She leaned into his touch. "No, it's not."

He leaned down and pressed his lips to hers. Her hands pressed against his chest and slid up around his neck and into his hair. He wrapped his other arm around her waist pulling her into him. She let her head fall back giving them easier access to explore each other. Their mouths opened, and their tongues intertwined. She let out a low sensuous moan against his lips. As the kisses deepened, their pace quickened. He picked her up and pressed her back against her open door. She wrapped her legs around his waist. Both bodies moving in rhythm with their kisses. He pushed into her with a gentle thrust. Her hips began to rock against him. He growled and broke the kiss. He set her down, took a step back. His hands rubbed his face roughly. He looked at her. Her eyes were still closed. Her cheeks were flushed and lips swollen. Her chin was pink from his beard rubbing against her sensitive skin. He kissed her on the forehead and sighed. Her eyes blinked open and she bit her lip.

"Goodnight, Avonlea," he said with a small smile. "Lock your door."

"Goodnight, Max." She reached up and gave him another kiss on lips. Then another and another until he smiled against her lips. She smiled at him one last time then shut the door between them. He waited until he heard the locks click before making his way to his apartment.


	6. Chapter 6

Sitting in his room, Max ran his fingertips across his lips. They still tingled from her kisses. He felt his lips stretch into one of the most genuine smiles he'd felt in a long time. He couldn't remember ever feeling this way. Happy.

God, he wanted her. He could have had her, but it was too soon. He didn't want her to regret anything they did. He knew the waiting and anticipation would draw her to him. But he couldn't wait. He had to know how she felt about him. He had to see her again.

He made his way through the dark passages easily and quietly. Would she call her mom? Did she have a good time? Did his kiss mean as much as hers? Did she wish it had never ended? Was she thinking of him? Was she imagining what could have happened?

Max opened the hole cover to her living room. The lights were off. He couldn't see any movement. He checked her bedroom. Only a lamp on the nightstand by her bedside shone. Avonlea was nowhere to be seen. He went to the two way mirror to her bathroom. There she was wearing a tank top and lacy boy shorts. He could see he two dots her piercing made on either side of her nipples pushing against the thin white fabric and a dark strip of hair on her mound covered by hot pink lace. She had her hair pulled up in a ponytail and cream all over her face. A loud vibration sounded on the side of the porcelain sink. She smiled and picked up her phone, quickly texting back. She set her phone back down, turned on the water, and rinsed her face. She reached for a small towel and dried herself. She opened a bottle of pills and swallowed two. She grabbed her phone and headed to the water closet.

Now was his chance. He moved quickly through the walls, dodging every pipe, stepping over boards. He knew every obstacle in his path. He reached the door to her kitchen, slowly opened it and closed it behind him. The air felt cleaner in her apartment. Lighter, easier to breathe. He walked through the living room to her bedroom. The light from the bathroom shone under the closed door. Stepping lightly, he hid in the closet and waited.

A few minutes later, Max heard the creak of hinges and click of a switch. He sunk behind her sweaters careful not make any noise but still allowing him a view of her bed through the crack in the door. He watched her turn off the lamp and climb in to bed. The streetlamps shining in the through her sheer curtains illuminated the room just enough so he could see her laying under her teal duvet. She pulled the covers up to her shoulders, laid her head on her pillow, and closed her eyes.

Avonlea looked peaceful and serene for a few minutes. He watched her switch positions several times never seeming to settle. She, finally, grunted in frustration and kicked off her covers her hands covering her eyes. She took three deep breaths. Slowly, her hand traveled down over neck and collarbone, down around the side or her breasts pushing them together and massaging them as her hands slid over their full shape. Her thighs were rubbing to together and her fingers started to gently rub and pull on her nipples. She bit her lip and hummed a small moan. One hand moved down her abdomen, over her lace covered pussy, and pressed down hard on her throbbing clit. Her hips moved in a circular motion gaining some much need friction.

Max was riveted. Her body was writhing as she chased her pleasure. Her hand moved into her panties. Her legs spread. He could see her hand curving over her mound, rubbing her clit with her palm as she fingered herself. He longed to see those delicate fingers stroking her slit, disappearing as they entered her, shimmering with her arousal. Her mewls of pleasure grew into small moans. Her fingers withdrew and started circling her clit, gaining speed. Her back arched. Her free hand gripped the sheets; her toes curled. "Max," she moaned as her climax washed over her. She laid back her chest heaving as she panted.

He was frozen in ecstasy over what he just witnessed. She came saying his name. She touched herself thinking of him just as he did with her. She wanted him. His erection was straining against his pants. He wanted to bury himself deep inside her, her legs wrapped around his waist, feel her muscles quiver around him, their bodies slick with sweat as they become one, as he finally possessed her.

Max waited, afraid to move. He watched her body relax and eventually her breathing evened out. Her body was stretched out across her mattress taking up as much room as possible. Her covers where still at the foot of the bed.

Carefully, he took off his shoes and left the haven of her closet. He placed his shoes by her door and approached her bed. He stood over her gazing down at her sleeping body. Shadows played over her curves. She looked so peaceful. So perfect.

His hands slowly ghosted up her legs. They paused over her panties. He imagined he could still feel her heat and his fingers twitched at the thought of feeling her wetness. They continued their journey up her body over her breasts. His thumbs ached to feel her nipples and their tiny adornments.

When his hands found their way to her jaw and cheeks his self-control was shattering. He leaned over her. His lips hovering over hers feeling her breath. Kissing her had been the greatest pleasure he had known. He broke himself from his thoughts and proceeded. He gently moved the strap from her top and placed a feather light kiss on her collarbone. A soft sigh escaped her lips.

He moved lower and lower until he was staring at pink lace and the soft skin under it. He inhaled deeply. She still smelled of sex and desire. His tongue licked his lips wishing it was her he was tasting. He started to palm his erection through his pants. Imagining her moaning as he swirled his tongue of her clit, the sweet taste of her juices coating his chin. He was so close.

A small groan and movement, ripped him from his daydreams. He quickly ducked down and laid on the floor next to the bed. The mattress creaked a little as she rolled over. Her hand hung over the edge of the bed. He waited for her to wake and catch him but it never happened. He laid there staring at the hand above him. He leaned on his elbow and ran his face along her fingers. He could tell by the lingering scent this was the hand she pleasured herself with. He open his lips letting the tips of her fingers fall in his mouth. He licked them savoring the taste of her. He opened his pants and began to stroke himself. His grip tightened and his pace increased. He leaned back and lifted his shirt off his stomach. It took a few more strokes and he came hard with her fingers still in his mouth.

He grabbed some tissues for the night stand and cleaned himself off the best he could and pocketed the evidence of his transgression. He took one last look at Avonlea before he left. He picked up his shoes and moved soundlessly through her apartment.

He knew he should feel guilt and shame, but now he knew she wanted him too. He was too excited for what was to come to feel bad about what just happened. It would be so much better when they pleasured each other rather than themselves.

As he reached his bedroom, he took off his clothes and changed into some pajama pants and a clean white shirt. His stomach growled as he walked to the kitchen for a midnight snack. The living room light clicked on behind him. He turned to see August sitting in his recliner waiting for.

"Where have you been?" August asked.

"I was out on a date."

"Yes, and you returned from that date some time ago. I went to your room and it was empty. Where have you been?"

Max looked at the floor. He should have known he wouldn't be allowed to be happy for the entire night.

August approached him. "I know what you were doing. You're perverted. A weak disgusting excuse of a man. Just like your father. If it weren't for your father, my daughter would still be alive. He was a coward and so are you."

Max fought the tears forming in his eyes. He remembered Avonlea. She didn't think he was weak. She came to him for protection, and she came at the thought of him touching her. "Avonlea doesn't think so," he said weakly.

"That's because she doesn't know you. Maybe I'll go tell her exactly what you use those maintenance passages for. Do you think she'd still want you knowing you watch her through the walls?"

Max saw red. He shoved August and watched him fall to the ground. "You stay away from her!" His grandfather's head hit the wood floor. He walked over to the body and stared. He hadn't meant to push him so hard. Avonlea was right. He really was just a frail old man.

"Max? What happened?" August asked in confusion.

"You fell. Let me help you up," he lied.

"I—I think I need my medicine," he slurred.

Max could see one side of his face drooping. He knew the signs of a stroke. "I already gave you your medicine. EMS should be here soon. Let's lay you down in your bed till they get here. It should only be a few minutes."

"Yesh. I do feel tired."

Max helped his grandfather to his room. He gently laid him down and covered him with the quilt his grandmother made. He said goodnight for what he hoped was the last time. As he walked out of the room he whispered, "It's my life now."


	7. Chapter 7

Max sat in a hard plastic seat waiting under bright florescent lights. That seemed to be all he had done the last three days. Waiting for morning to come to see if August made it through the night. Waiting for EMS to arrive to take the barely alive old man to the hospital. Waiting for doctors to tell him there was nothing more they could do. Waiting for August's heart to stop beating when they took him off of life support. Now Max waited for the paperwork to release the body to funeral home so his grandfather could be buried next to his wife and daughter.

He had waited his whole life to be out from under the old man's thumb. His constant spew of volatile hatred. The crushing weight of constant disappointment. Always being compared to the man that took the life of his mother and then his own. He would never have to measure up to August's twisted set of expectations again. He was his own man.

Being his own man, however, had left him in a tumultuous state of confusion. Without August to dictate how he should feel, he didn't know what to feel. His mind alternated between guilt for not feeling remorse and relief that he was finally gone, but never grief.

He had no love for the only member of his family he would ever remember. What kind of person did that make him? That he could let his grandfather die without feeling anything. How could he be that cold? The fact that August probably would have done the same turned his stomach. He spent his whole life trying not to be his father. Had he turned into his grandfather instead?

Max pulled his phone from his pocket and opened his messages. He scrolled through the texts Avonlea had sent him over the past few days. Sweet notes letting him know how much she enjoyed their date. Worried texts wondering why he hadn't responded. Why hadn't he responded? He hadn't seen her in since that night. He couldn't bring himself to face her. He could barely face himself. Didn't she deserve better? Shouldn't he want better for her? He should, but he still wanted her for himself. If he should feel guilty about anything, it was that. His love for her was selfish. He wanted her even if it wasn't the best thing for her. He wanted her even though she would despise him if she ever found out who he truly was. He could live a lie his whole life, as many lies as it took, if it meant being with her. He could and he would.

"Max?"

He looked up, startled by sweet sound of Avonlea. Her brows were furrowed, her hands fidgeted with the hem of her cardigan she wore over her blue striped sundress.

"What are you doing here?" he asked.

"I was visiting Jason. He gets out tomorrow. What are you doing here? Why haven't you returned my texts?"

An employee of the hospital walked towards him. "Here you are, sir. Everything is in order. You'll be able to make final arrangements for services with the funeral home. I'm very sorry for your loss." He gave him some papers, shook his hand, and walked away.

Max look over at Avonlea who was now seated. Her hand covered her mouth and her wide eyes searched his hoping for an alternative explanation. He sighed.

"Oh, Max…I'm—I'm so sorry. What happened?"

"He had a massive stroke a few nights ago in his sleep. He was on life support, but I took him off early this morning. There was nothing they could do." He looked to the ground hoping the shift in eye contact conveyed some sort of appropriate emotion.

Avonlea stood and took a step forward. His arms fell to his sides as hers wrapped around his waist. She leaned her cheek on his chest. He let his hands rest on the small of her back. His chin rested on her head savoring the way she fit so perfectly against him. He could feel a small wet spot spreading on his shirt. She wept for a man she didn't even know. He hadn't shed a single tear.

He pulled her away from him and looked her teary cheeks. "There's no need for tears. He was old and in poor health."

"Oh," she said, hastily dried her tears on the back of her sleeve. "I'm not crying for August. I mean it's always sad when someone passes, but I'm mostly sad you had to go through it alone. I would've come if you had let me know. No one should have to be alone during times like these."

"I didn't want to burden you."

Her hand gently reached up to his face. He pressed his cheek into the warmth of her palm. "Look at me. You are not a burden. Not to me. Not ever." For the first time in three days his eyes filled with tears. "Do you need to go to the funeral home?"

"No, I've already arranged everything. There won't be a service. Just a burial tomorrow."

She hooked her arm into his elbow and started leading them towards the exit. "I'd like to go with you if that's ok."

"You don't have to," he said.

"But I want to. You shouldn't have to do this on your own. You don't have to and I won't let you." She led him through the automatic doors. His hand shielded his eyes to the natural light of the afternoon sun. He followed her blindly as his eyes adjusted. "We're going home. You're staying with me until I know you'll be alright." She waved for a taxi.

His heart pounded. The only thing he could hear was the rushing of blood in his ears. She was inviting him to stay with her? She wanted to take care of him. He couldn't remember the last time someone took care of him; he was so young when his mother died. Maybe he could just stay one night. "Are you sure I won't be an imposition?" He slid into the taxi after her.

"Of course, not. We'll order take out. Watch movies. It will be like a sleepover but without the hair braiding and nail painting. Unless you're into that….I don't know your life." She smiled and bumped his shoulder with hers.

He couldn't help but smile back. It felt good to smile but wrong. He knew he should be grieving. He knew he should be guilty. But he was happy. He was going to get to spend the night with the woman of his dreams. He wouldn't be hindered by checking on August. His mood wouldn't be dampened by the cruel remarks of his grandfather. He was free. He felt free. Such a weight had been lifted. He had to contain his joy.

They reached the apartment building and went up to their floor. The whole building seemed brighter. He no longer felt suffocated entering it. It was his. He could do whatever he wanted with it. He looked at it with fresh eyes.

"Just grab some clothes. You can shower at my place if you aren't ready to be alone in your apartment yet." Avonlea said.

He nodded as he unlocked his door. He looked around the space. All the old furniture, pictures of dead family members, reminders of his past….he'd get rid of all of them. Burn them if he could, anything to exorcize those demons. He had a new future to look forward to.

A small hand rubbed his upper arm. "Hey, you okay," Avonlea asked, her sweet face full of concern.

"Fine. I'll just be a minute."

"Take all the time you need. I'll go call us up some food. The door will be unlocked. Just let yourself in." She turned and walked down the hall giving him an encouraging smile over her shoulder.

Max walked straight to his room. He grabbed some clothes and threw them in a small bag. He got his toothbrush and some other toiletries from his bathroom.

As he walked through the living room he stopped and dropped his bag. He gathered up picture frames and crotched blankets, all of August's knick knacks, the tiffany lamp owned by his grandmother, dried bouquets in heirloom vases, ferns in brass plant stands, and finally, he pulled all the heavy curtains downs. August wouldn't keep him shrouded in darkness anymore. He threw them all in August's room and closed the door behind him.

Max entered Avonlea's apartment and slowly started looking for her. He never felt uncomfortable moving through her apartment in secret, but now for some reason, he felt unsure of what to do. He found her in front of her computer. Her fingers tapping away at the keys.

"Hey," she said with a smile as she continued to work. "Come on in and make yourself at home. I did a quick scrub on the bathroom so you can shower and do whatever you need to do. Food is ordered. Hope Chinese is okay. I have some emails I have to answer. I am so behind on work right now. Once I'm done we can pop in a movie, sound good?"

"Oh. Um, sounds good. No classic movies though," he said. He knew they were her favorites but he couldn't handle to reminder right now.

"Okay. No classics. I'll pick out a sci-fi."

"Okay. Um, I'll just go shower. I really appreciate this. I didn't realize how weird my apartment would feel. I really don't want to be alone."

"You aren't alone, Max. And you'll feel much better after you take a real shower and eat something not served from a cafeteria."

He left her to work and made his way to her bathroom. He was half hard thinking of being naked in her apartment. His hair would smell like hers. The soap she rubbed on her body would slip and slide over his. His skin would touch her towels. He thought about taking care of his needs as he washed but he hoped that he would need his energy for later.

Max washed and dried himself savoring the scent of her clinging to his skin. He dressed in a dark t-shirt and jeans. Barefoot, he made his way back to the living room and sat on the couch. He leaned back and closed his eyes.

The smell of food wafted through the air. He opened his eyes and saw Avonlea sitting on the floor setting out containers and place settings on the coffee table.

"You're awake. I was going to give you a few more minutes, but I didn't want the food to get too cold."

"How much food did you order?" he asked with a chuckle looking at the spread.

Her cheeks reddened. She focused on opening lids. "I didn't know what you liked so I got a little of everything." She passed him a plate and they served themselves.

"So, um….how is your agent?" Max asked.

"Oh. He's got a few broken ribs and clavicle. But he's going to be alright. He just has to take it easy for a few weeks."

"And have the police gotten any leads?"

"No. They've gone through what little of my fan mail there is. All my social media pages. They think that maybe it was just a case of mistaken identity or that the attacker was high…maybe just crazy. Who knows?" She shrugged and continued, "Now that I've had time to calm down, it's hard to believe it would've been about me after all. I feel so stupid freaking out on you like I did."

"The important thing is you're safe now. It's always better to be safe than sorry."

"Yeah. So, I figured out what movie we should watch." She handed him a dvd box.

"What's that?"

"The Fifth Element. It's sci-fi, action, campy weirdness. The perfect movie to distract you. Have you seen it?"

"Um, no." He looked at the cover and wondered what he had agreed to. Bruce Willis and Gary Oldman….maybe it wouldn't be too bad.

"Okay, just prepare yourself."

Avonlea put on the movie and sat on the couch with her plate of food. They watched and ate, occasionally commenting on the movie. About half way through, she got up to put the rest of the food in the fridge. When she returned, she settled in right next to him. He, tentatively, put his arm around her shoulder pulling her into him. To his surprise, she relaxed and put her head on his shoulder; her body turned into his and her hand resting on his thigh.

Max had a hard time paying attention to the movie. She was so close. He thought of kissing her, but her giggles told him she was enjoying this bizarre movie. It did have some funny parts. He endured the movie and relished her warm body pressed up against him.

As the credits rolled, her hand came to rest on his chest. He covered her small hand with his and brought the palm to his lips. Her hand slid from his mouth to his cheek and turned his head towards her. She kissed his neck, his cheek, and finally, her lips touched his. The kiss was soft, lips meeting in feather light touches. She gradually sat up taller, her kisses becoming more insistent, their tongues swirling together. He tried to pull her into his lap but she pulled back. "Bedroom," she whispered in his ear. He rose pulling her up with him. He leaned down kissing, her tasting her as he wrapped his arms around her waist. Her hands slid around his neck pulling him down. Neither close enough to meet their needs.

He picked her up and carried her to the bedroom never breaking their kiss. He set her down on the edge of the bed. Desperate hands began moving trying to rid the other of the barrier of clothing keeping their skin from touching. Her cardigan and dress lay rumpled on the floor. His shirt and jeans next to them. He stopped to admire her curvy form adorned in light pink. He pushed her to the bed laying on top of her. She moaned into their deep kiss when his hands circled around her wrists pinning them to bed. Her hips lifted, thrusting against him, in search of friction.

Max trailed his kisses down her neck between the valley of her breasts over the soft plain of her abdomen. He nipped at the flesh around her navel. He could feel the heat of her center on his chest as he moved down her body. His fingers hooked under the waist band of her panties.

"Max, wait," she said breathily.

He moved back up and tried to kiss her. Anything to distract her. Anything to keep this from ending.

"No, Max," she gently pushed at his chest.

He looked into her eyes. Sighing he sat up. Dread replacing the desire coursing through his veins.

"It's just….I don't have any protection. I'm sorry." Her brows furrowed as she bit her bottom lip.

"I can't have kids," he said.

"What?"

"Not without medical intervention or fertility treatments," he lied. "I tried to donate when I was younger and it was rejected. It was one of the reasons my ex left."

"Oh, Max…I'm sorry."

He could see the mood slipping away. Why had he told that lie? Because he didn't want to end the night fucking his fist. Because he would say and do anything to be inside her without barriers. He put his feet on the floor, ready to leave.

"Max, there's just one more thing."

"What's that?" he asked.

"I don't want you to be shocked. Some people are." She sat up and slowly unhooked her bra. She pulled the pink garment away from her body revealing her pierced nipples to him. She laid down as he crawled over her body. He kissed her and filled his hand with the supple weight of her breast, the tiny metal piercing warming from the heat of his palm.

"You are beautiful and perfect." He took her nipple into his mouth gently licking and sucking. She moaned and arched under his attention. "Anything else I should know about?" He asked smiling.

"I'm very very flexible." She grinned.

He sat up on his knees between her legs. "Prove it." He groaned as she lifted a leg and pulled it to her chest. He wrapped a hand around her ankle and pulled her leg back towards him. He massaged her calf and her thigh. His fingers played with the band on her panties before pulling them down, baring her to him. He kissed her calf, behind her knee, and worked his way up the inside of her thigh. His lips ghosted over her pussy as he switch to her other thigh. He could see the tiny movement in her hips as they rocked desperate for more. He sucked on the flesh of her thigh leaving a red mark. A reminder for later.

Max settled in between her legs. He used his thumbs to spread her lips taking in all the intricate details of her folds. She was wet. So wet for him. The fact the he had aroused her to this extent already had him straining against his boxers, a wet spot from his precum darkening the fabric.

He caught a glimpse of them in the mirror over the dresser next to the bed. He watched as he licked one long slow lick from her entrance to her clit. Her mouth opened a low moan passing her lips, her back arched, her hands massaged her breasts. He watched her body move as she rode his mouth and tongue. He slipped in two fingers while his mouth worked and sucked on her clit. Her hands immediately moved to her side, twisting into her bedding. He felt her muscles flutter and contract around his fingers as the pumped in and out of her body. He kept touching and tasting, prolonging her orgasm until her body went lax. She panted and moaned as he slowly stroked her quivering body with easy licks lapping up her cum savoring the sweet taste of her.

He lifting himself away from the shelter of her thighs, he pulled his boxers off and laid his head on the pillow next her. He turned her limp body towards him and kissed her. Her hands slid down his chest and abs, under his erection gripping and squeezing him at the base before lightly circling around the rest of the shaft. He pumped into her hand and it moved up and down, his precum lubricating her palm. She lifted her leg over his hip and guided him towards her dripping entrance. He pushed into the wet warm sheath, his hand grabbed her ass pulling her body against him. He wanted to feel her nipples rub against his chest. He wanted to feel the one strip of hair above her pussy grind against him. He stretched and filled her, reveling in the way her body tightened around him. Their tongues massaging and exploring each other's mouths to the rhythm of his thrusts.

Suddenly, she pushed him onto his back straddling his hips. She rose and sunk back down on his dick, rolling her hips again and again. He watched her ride him, watched his dick glistening with her wetness as it disappeared into her body. He watched her breasts bounce and sway from the force of her movements. She leaned forward with her hands on either side of his head. She started to grind against the base of his dick. Her breathing became heavy. Her moans louder. Her breasts swayed in front of his face. He gripped her hips and pulled her down harder against him. He felt her pussy starting to contract again. He pushed his hips up thrusting into her hard and fast as her second orgasm rolled through her. Her pussy tightened hard around him, his thrusts became erratic as he shot hot cum into her pulsating body. She laid on top of him. Both of their chests heaving from their hard breathing. He wrapped his arms around her, stroking her back, loving the feel of her sweat slick skin on his. He kissed her forehead. She leaned up, kissed him on the mouth, and rolled off of him. His body mourned the loss of her weight and warmth.

He watched as she rolled off the bed and walked to the bathroom. He laid there wondering how he had gotten so lucky. He certainly didn't deserve her affection. He moved enough to pull the covers down and get under them. She came back to the room a few minutes later with a glass of water. She popped a pill into her mouth and took a drink then offered the glass to Max. He took a sip and set it on the nightstand. She crawled into bed with him cuddling up to his side.

"That was amazing, Max," she said with a sigh as she stroked his chest hair.

"It was," he agreed. "I'm looking forward to testing out that flexibility of yours though."

Avonlea laughed. "I'm not sure you can handle it."

"I'm not sure either, but I'm willing to take the risk."

They laughed and talked about the movie, her childhood, made plans for things they'd like to do in the city while holding each other until she started nodding off.

"Goodnight, Max," she said with a yawn.

"Good night, Avonlea."

She rolled over to her other side and fell asleep. He laid an arm over her side and closed his eyes. Inhaling the scent of her hair and the scent of her arousal that clung to his short beard. For the first time in his recent memory, he didn't dread tomorrow.

Max woke up some time later to the sound of the train rattling the windows. Avonlea didn't stir her sleeping pills keeping her fast asleep. He gazed at her as streetlight danced over her skin through flowing lace curtains. He traced the petals her tattoos with his fingers. She was so beautiful. Her lashes fanned out over her cheeks. Her lips in subtle pout.

He thought of the times he had watched her sleeping standing over her and now he was lying next to her. He gently pulled the sheets away from their bodies. His hand gently ran down her arm then up her belly. He cupped her breast and squeezed watching the way it moved in his hand in the mirror. He moved his hand down her body once more cupping her mound. She was still wet. Whether it was her own fluid or his, he didn't care. He was hard again and needed to be inside her. He slid down the bed a little. He lifted her leg and pushed himself inside her. He watched in the mirror as he thrust himself inside her tightness. How many times had he fantasized of taking her while she slept? The thrill of being caught heightened his sense of pleasure. He thrust faster not worried about prolonging his performance for her pleasure. She let out a small hum of pleasure in her sleep. That was all it took to send him over the edge. For the second time that night, he came deep inside her.

He stayed inside her until he was completely soft. He rubbed his lips on her bare shoulder. He covered them up with blankets and sheets once more and let his hand rest on her lower abdomen. He knew they were meant to be together forever. A family. He would make sure he always had a part of her.


	8. Chapter 8

Hey guys! Here's the next chapter. If you like it, let me know! I love reviews! You can also come chat with me on Tumblr. Same user name.

* * *

Sunlight shone through the lace curtains dancing over Max's closed eyes. Stretching out his hand in search of Avonlea's warm body. His hands found nothing but cool sheets next to him. He rolled over and inhaled the scent off her pillow. He could smell her shampoo and detergent. Sitting up, he threw back the covers and the smell of their lovemaking filled his nose. He walked over to his bag and pulled on a pair of sweats and white t-shirt over his naked body.

He found Avonlea sitting crossed legged on her kitchen island surround by takeout cartons, fork in hand with food stuffed cheeks. Her eyes widened and a faint pink spread across her face. She covered her full mouth, looking anywhere but at him as she hurriedly chewed and choked down her food. She gulped at a diet soda and said, "Good morning. I did not just stuff an entire egg roll in my mouth."

He laughed. "Another hidden talent you have to show me." He pressed a kiss to her forehead as she snorted and swatted his shoulder. "Good morning."

She smiled and said, "Good morning. Did you sleep well?"

Clad in a tank top and sleeping shorts, her hair thrown haphazardly in a bun on the top of her head, he could see her piercings pushing against the white fabric of her top. He ran his hands from her hips up her waist until they rested just below the curve of her breast. His thumbs grazed over her nipples. He leaned forward and nuzzled into her neck feeling the vibrations of her hummed moans against his lips.

"I did for the first time in a long time," he said.

She pulled away from his embrace with a giggle and handed him a new plastic fork that had come with the meal the night before. "Being at the hospital, worrying about August probably wasn't conducive to a good night's sleep."

"Well, no. But I got used to no sleep having to monitor him around the clock. It was actually weird not setting any alarms." He poked around in the cartons finally spearing a chunk of sweet and sour pork. He dipped the tempura meat into a thick red sauce before popping it in his mouth.

"I can't imagine how hard all this must be for you. What time is his burial?" Avonlea wiped a bit of sauce from the corner of his mouth.

Grabbing another carton of food he replied, "Not until 4." He leaned against the counter and ate some spicy chicken dish. He didn't want to think about August. He just wanted to move on with his life…their life together.

"Well then," she said, jumping off the counter, "I better get some work done so I can be ready to go on time."

"You really don't have to go," he muttered concentrating on the food in his hands.

Avonlea gently took the food and set it on the counter. She wrapped her arms around his waist and squeezed. "I know I don't. But I want to. I want to be there for you like you were there for me."

He wrapped his arms around her savoring the feel of her body pressed against him. He wanted more. He always wanted more. He wanted her underneath him writhing in pleasuring as he pinned her wrists by her head and pounded into her, losing himself in the warmth and wetness of her body as it yielded to him, stretching and squeezing him as he moved in and out in a smooth frictionless glide. He wanted to pin her up against the wall and worship her on his knees as any disciple before an altar would venerate their god, licking and sucking at her flesh until her juices flowed down his chin, and she collapsed from pleasure into his arms.

Her arms left his waist and ran down the front of his sweatpants finding his growing bulge with ease. Her hands pressed into him then squeezed around his shaft before releasing him completely. She took his hand and gently pulled him. He followed willingly as he always would.

She led Max to the bathroom. He watched her peel away her clothes enjoying the way her body moved when freed from the constraints of clothing. Her breasts hung and swayed as she bent over to take off her shorts. Her pussy peeked out between her thighs. He quickly pulled off his own clothes, stroking his erection as she started the water. They showered taking their time covering the other's bodies in soap, the bubbles offering little resistance to their exploring hands. He hitched her leg over his hip and grabbed her ass pressing her hard against him. His cock slid through her slit over her clit hitting the bundles of nerves with each upward stroke. Her moans escalated reverberating against the walls. Her nails dug into his back as her orgasm ripped through her. He grunted as he finished, thick cum squirting between their stomachs. After a few moments of holding each other they slowly let go, their breathing reduced to soft puffs of warm air against their wet skin.

"It's a good thing we're still in the shower," Avonlea said with a small laugh as she glanced at the mess between them.

"Good clean fun is never as gratifying as down and dirty," he said as grabbed a bottle body wash and squirted an ample amount into her hands then his. They rewashed, dried, and dressed their bodies sated and clean.

* * *

Avonlea sat at her desk flipping through her planner and asked, "What are you going to do until it's time?"

"I have some errands to run. I need to get some boxes. Maybe talk to an antique store to see if they want to take a look at any of the furniture in my apartment." Max sat on the couch staring down away from her gaze as he tied his shoes.

"You're just going to get rid of everything?"

The shock in her voice twisted his stomach. He knew she wouldn't understand. People like her, that loved their family, wanted to keep tokens and heirlooms. They hold on to possessions as if they could only keep their loved one's memory alive with a dresser or article of clothing. He just wanted to rid his life of everything August touched. He and Avonlea would make new heirlooms in their new life that would be passed down for generations.

"Avonlea, I didn't have loving normal family. I had a grandfather that openly hated me. I just want to move past all that and start the rest of my life with a clean slate." He looked into her eyes willing her to understand the hurt associated with everything in that apartment down the hall.

Her eyes welled with tears. "Ok. I understand. I mean, it's hard for me to grasp, but I'm trying."

"That's all I need. I'll be back around 3:00 so we can head out." He walked over to her and gave her kiss on the cheek. "Get some work done, slacker."

"Hey!" She shoved his arm. "Stop being such a distraction and maybe I could."

He placed his hand on her neck, his fingers spanning her jawline, tilting her head up as he leaned down. His lips pressed into hers spreading them with his tongue as he deepened the kiss. He moaned into her mouth willing her to taste his deep voice. He pulled back a stared at her face, cheeks flushed, lips a deeper shade, and eyes still closed. Her eyelashes soon fluttered as she opened her eyes to look up at him. "I have no idea what you are talking about," he said with a smirk.

She glared and smacked his butt as he turned to leave. "Go run your errands before I get fired!"

He laughed as he locked her door on the way out with his building keys. She made him feel so good. Happy. Playful. He wanted to throw her over his shoulders and body slam her on the bed before tickling her until she couldn't breathe. He'd never felt this way even when he was younger. Never so full of life.

He needed to do something for her. But what could he possibly give her. August's dvd library. It was full of old treasures she would be sure to love. He'd make sure he'd set those aside for her and only her. Instead of hearing August complaining about days when men were men and women were ladies and using those standards to tear him down, he would be able to watch her enjoy the romance and adventure of days gone by without any regrets. She'd point out the folly of those days and laugh at how absurd some of those ideals were.

* * *

Max entered his apartment and checked his messages. None. At least the building was quiet for now. No complaints to attend to. He grabbed his camera and snapped a few pictures of the furniture he thought might be old enough to interest the antiques dealers he knew in the neighborhood. He'd sell cheap if they came and got it as soon as possible.

He walked through the building thinking of all the improvements he was now free to make. He'd have to arrange some meetings with an architect with knowledge about older buildings, contractors, and see to about getting a loan from the bank to fund all the updates he wanted if August's life insurance policy wasn't enough. It was time to make this building as efficient as it was beautiful. He could charge more in rent too…make a better living for him and Avonlea. She'd be able to quit her editing job if she wanted to and just write. They'd fill the building with the sounds of children laughing and playing. It would be so different than the life he had known.

He walked distractedly through the neighborhood. Some business owners stopped him to greet him and asked after his grandfather. It was draining every time he had to explain his passing to a new person. His hopeful outlook on the future had been replaced by anxiety. He hoped he had come off as grieving in those brief and awkward encounters. He didn't need any gossip hanging over his head and making its way back to Avonlea's ears.

He returned a few hours later, boxes in hand. He set them against the back of the couch. He had lined up a few buyers for the bed room sets, living rooms set, and a few other things. They were coming in a few days. He had a friend at a thrift store that would pick up everything else that could be sold. He'd box up his things until new furniture could be delivered and the rest he would throw in bags and take to the dumpsters in the alley.

Max dressed in a black suit and walked down the hall to Avonlea's wondering if there was a way to combine the two apartments into one. They'd need the space sooner or later. It woudn't do to only have two bedrooms. They needed 3 or 4.

He inserted his key into the lock and turned it slowly. He walked into her apartment listening for clues as to her whereabouts. He heard the click of heels and followed the pitter patter to her bedroom. A few dresses lay across her bed. She stood in a black lace bra, matching thong, and black pumps, her hair twisted and pinned up.

"If that's what you're wearing. I approve," he said as he took in the sight of her breasts artificially lifted, creating a wealth of cleavage, the curve of her backside framed with lace. He wanted to bend her over, slide that small strip of fabric to the side and bury his face in her pussy as her hips rolled, riding his mouth.

"Don't give me that look," she scolded.

"What look?" The corners of his mouth twitched into sheepish grin as he averted his eyes to the ground.

"You are having impure thoughts. It written all over your face…and your trousers. We have some place to be. This," she said, gesturing between them, "will have to wait. Which do you think?" She held up a black dress with three quarter length sleeves and a belt just above the a-line skirt then she switched to a strapless black dress with a long sleeve lace overlay.

"Um, the lacey one?" Max said uncertainly. "They're both pretty."

"You don't think the lacey one is a little too fun for a burial?" Her brows furrowed and she bit her lip as she stared at the dresses. "These were the only black ones I had…."

"Wear the lacey one. It's beautiful. It'll only be us. I'll take you out to dinner afterwards. Make the most of our dressing up."

"Ok. Well, then I won't be wearing this." Her breasts fell with a small bounce as she took off her bra and tossed it on the bed. She unzipped the back of the dress and stepped into the skirt. She pulled it up over her hips and slid her arms into the sleeves. She turned exposing her back to him. "Would you help me, please?"

Max stepped forward closing the distance between them. He ran his fingers up her spine watching the goosebumps spread across her flesh. His lips grazed the nape of her neck tickling the fine hairs that had fallen out of the pins.

"Max," she sighed.

He growled and stepped back. "I know. I know." His fingers fell to the small of her back. He pulled the zipper slowly up to her shoulders then button the one black pearl button on her neck closing the lace.

Avonlea turned in his arms, cupped his cheeks, and kissed him gently. "Thank you. Now, let's go before we're late."

Holding hands, they left the building. Max hailed a cab and opened the door for her when one finally stopped. They rode to the cemetery in silence. His attention on the driver who should have been keeping his eyes on the road rather than his girlfriend. He glared at the driver the whole way wishing he could teach him what happens when a man lusts after what's his.

She reached over and took his hand in hers rubbing his knuckles gently. "It'll be over soon," she said, oblivious to the true cause of his outward turmoil.

He nodded. Willing the dark thoughts that had entered his mind, of bloody fists and broken noses, out of his head. He needed to calm these rages. He needed to be better for her. She deserved better.

Avonlea reached for his face. "Hey, c'mere." She pressed her lips to his coaxing him to relax.

Max took the opportunity to wrap his arms around her pulling her to him. She hummed a pleased little sigh. He looked in the rear view mirror and saw the driver's furrowed brow as he scowled at the road. He released Avonlea and kissed her forehead before she sat back in the seat with a small grin on her lips.

"Feel better?" she asked hopefully.

"How could I not?" He watched her smile grow at his praise. So beautiful. So sweet and trusting.

* * *

They finally arrived at the cemetery. He paid the driver leaving him a small tip. Maybe he would learn not to leer next time. They walked through rows of headstones until they found the family plot Max had been forced to visit every year on birthdays, holidays, and anniversaries. His mother and grandmother were buried side by side. He wasn't sure where his father was buried. He'd never been brave enough to ask.

The pastor was waiting for them. The shiny black casket in place. Max remembered the man from the church he used to take August to and shook his hand. He introduced him to Avonlea and the brief service began.

Max stared at the casket. The floral arrangement of white roses and lilies rested on top. It was too beautiful. August did not deserve such things. He did not deserve to have this show of false grief. He did not deserve the words the pastor said.

The hell that man put him through. The looks of disgust and disappointment. Max remembered them further back than anything. He knew August hated him but didn't understand why until he was in high school. The hitting began when he was 10. Too old to coddled, too young to fight back. For years, he suffered in silence hoping to do good enough to please the old man. But it was never enough.

Bitter tears ran down his face. He hated the man being buried. He hoped whatever hell he was burning in gave him some glimpse into the life he had created for his grandson. An eternity of suffering for tormenting the child he should have but could never love. For making him believe he wasn't worthy of love.

An arm circled around his back. A hand rested on his hip and gave him a quick squeeze. He put his arm around Avonlea's shoulder, grateful for the feel of her body anchoring him to his new reality. He had her. He would build a new life with her. Love and cherish her. And he would make her love him.

"Do you want to take a flower from the arrangement to save?" she asked him.

He shook his head. He didn't need or want any reminders of this day.

The casket was lowered into the ground. They stood arm in arm until it was covered in dirt. That chapter of his life officially closed.

* * *

After another cab ride, Max and Avonlea found themselves in a corner booth of an old Italian restaurant. Red and white checkered table cloth, drippy candle in a bottle, and a singer belting out the hits of Frank Sinatra, Perry Como, Dean Martin, and other greats created a relaxing and cozy atmosphere.

They ordered a bottle of wine and poured two generous glasses. They ordered an assortment of appetizers neither really having a robust appetite after such a somber afternoon. They ate enjoying the food and ambiance. Max was quiet and reserved even though he relished her company.

"You know what you need?" she asked, breaking apart a breadstick and offering him half.

He leaned over and took a bite of the proffered bread. "Mmm?"

She put the breadstick on her plate and wiped her hands. "You need a distraction."

"What do you have in mind?" He took a sip of wine and leaned against the large pleather seat.

She scooted closer into the corner of the booth. "What's the naughtiest thing you've ever done in public?" Her hands disappeared under her skirt as her hips began to wiggle. She quickly looked around before she bent over and slowly pulled her thong down her legs. She stepped her heels through the holes and brought them to her lap.

He snatched the lace garment from her and brought it to his face inhaling deeply. "I've lived a very sheltered life unfortunately." He watched her bite her lip, a faint flush spreading across her as he put the panties in his pocket.

"Me too." Her hand resting on his thigh and moved up until it felt the swelling in his pants and squeezed.

He took another gulp of his wine and motioned to the waiter. "We'd like our check please."

* * *

The ride home lustful gazes repeatedly met. A small touch here. A kiss there. Innocent to the casual bystander but filled with promises of pleasure. The air in the small cab felt charged like the sky before a storm.

Max followed Avonlea into the building. Knowing she was bare was too much. He needed her and he would have her.

They got into the elevator and pressed the button for their floor. As the machine began its assent, he pushed the stop button. He pressed Avonlea into the corner, his tongue plunging her to her mouth smothering her gasp. His hands worked quickly to unbutton the one button at her neck, then slid down to unzip her dress. He pulled her dress from her shoulders, licking and sucking on her nipples as they were bared. He pushed the dress over her hips until it hit the floor, and she stood naked before him.

He sunk to his knees and lifted her leg over his shoulder. She gripped the handrail tight as his tongue slid up her slit and lapped at her wet pussy. He let his nose nudge her clit and his bearded chin create friction as he licked the delicate folds. Her hips started to roll. One hand moved to grip his hair. Moans were stifled in her throat. He began to suck on her clit, pulling and nipping at the tender bud until her mouth fell open and he could hear her mewls of pleasure. He slid two fingers into her slickness, curving them until her legs started to shake. Her muscles seized around him as she screamed his name.

He put her leg down and stood. Her eyes were still closed. Her knuckles white against the brass handrail. He turned her around facing the corner. "Bend over," he whispered in her ear. She complied exposing herself to him completely. He stepped to the side and undid his belt then his pants. He stroked his leaking cock as he pulled it out. He stepped behind her and spread her cheeks. Lining himself up with her entrance, he thrust in to the hilt. Her head snapped up, her back arched with a moan. He began a quick pace. When he felt his peak approaching, he reached around and began to rub her clit.

"Oh yes! Oh god, Max, don't stop," she cried.

Her pussy tightened around his dick as her orgasm hit. A few more thrusts and came deep inside her filling her with his cum. His legs threatened to give out as his body recovered. He pulled Avonlea up to standing, and she turned to face him. He kissed her gently on the forehead, the cheeks, the lips murmuring words of praise. He helped her back into her dress and restarted the elevator.

They entered her apartment and showered before bed. He laid there watching her as she fell asleep. Once her breathing deepened, he left the apartment. He needed to retrieve the security footage from the elevator. It would be the only memento he kept from this day.


	9. Chapter 9

The next few days were a dream as Max and Avonlea fell into a domestic routine. He imagined this was how their life would be when they finally became a family. She would wake up early, working while drinking her way through a cup or two of coffee. He would quietly leave, trying not to disturb her train of thought, leaving her sticky notes of encouragement along with a small something to eat.

Max spent his mornings going over leases, blueprints, and other arrangements that had long since been ignored. He called all the tenants to let them know that August had passed. He knew he could update this building to be one of those trendy places to live with the parks and easy access to amenities now that his grandfather was out of the picture. It was all a matter of keeping the current tenants happy while bringing in younger blood.

He would go back to Avonlea's apartment around noon to make them some lunch. He had watched her make her salads enough times to know what she liked. They would chit chat about their day so far while eating, and he would leave again. He didn't want to overstay his welcome, smother her with constant need for her presence. He knew the time would come for him to move back to his apartment, but hers felt more like home than his ever had.

Today, he would be packing some things before the buyers came to collect the furniture and junk the place had accumulated. He had delayed as much as possible, but it was finally time. His heart sunk at the thought of sleeping alone in his apartment.

"Don't forget to feed yourself today. I'll be busy with movers and buyers all day," he said as he kissed the crown of her head.

"You know, I did manage to eat before you. I think I'll manage one day." She laughed, playfully shoving at his white t-shirt as she pushed him out the door.

He watched her close the door, trying to memorize the sparkle in her eye. The way she looked at him, he could almost pretend it was love.

* * *

Max managed to concentrate on packing through the morning. He couldn't resist seeing her though. She was his addiction. He always needed another fix.

He slipped into the passageway and watched her cleaning up from her midday meal. The apartment was quiet, only clinking of some dishes as she moved barefoot around the kitchen in her yoga pants and tank top. Her ponytail swinging as she turned this way and that. He jumped when the phone rang behind her.

"Hey, Mom," she said. "Yes, I know it's been a few days. Yes, I'm still alive. I'm sorry, but I've just been busy. You know my landlord, Max? Well his grandfather passed, and he's been staying with me." She leaned on the counter and picked at a box of cookies he had bought her. "Everything is fine. I think he's handling it pretty well. We're…well, I guess you could say we're dating. We haven't really put a label on anything." She stood up straight and twirled a lock of hair around her finger. "I'm not talking about that with you. Mom! I'm not discussing the details of my sex life with you. It's bad enough you've read my books. No! This is not a tit for tat situation. Oh. My. God. Stop! La la la la…I'm not listening! I'm hanging up now. Tell dad I said 'hi' and not to make eye contact with me for at least a year. Love you too. Bye." She hung up the phone and place it on the counter staring at it like it was cursed. "Bat shit crazy. Ugh, I need to bleach my brain," she murmured.

He smiled the whole way back to his apartment through the dust and cobwebs. He'd never seen a relationship, a family, like hers. Although he hadn't met them, he was sure her parents would be open and accepting. After all, they raised Avonlea, and she welcomed him home every day with open arms and every night with open legs. She was perfect. They would be just as happy as her parents. Their children would be amazing like her.

* * *

For the next few hours, people were in and out of his apartment moving out items to sell. He watched as item after item left the apartment. He felt lighter as the rooms were emptied and yet drained having to deal with so many strangers in his space. Finally, all that was left was his mattress and a few boxes by the door that held August's personal effects he'd been meaning to take to the dumpster all day.

He was sweeping up the dust that had collected over the years under heavy wooden furniture when the front door slowly opened a crack, and Avonlea's head poked through opening. She smiled as the door swung open and lifted a big greasy bag of take out and a drink carrier with sodas.

"I thought you might be hungry. I remembered to eat, but did you?" she asked.

His dimples deepened as a sheepish grin spread across his face. "I was busy."

"Mm-hm." Avonlea walked through the apartment to the kitchen setting the bags on the counter. "I can see you were busy. You really got rid of everything didn't you? When are you going to get new stuff?"

"I thought maybe this weekend you could help me pick some things out," he said staring at the floor.

"Oh, please. If I were helping you'd end up with a ton of useless throw pillows and doilies. But I'll go with you anyways. It'll be fun." She looked around the empty kitchen once again. "Do you want to eat at my place? You know, with actual chairs and a table?"

"Yeah, that'll be good." He tried to remain calm, knowing he would have at least one more night with her until she finally realized that they'd be better of living together permanently. "Let me grab a quick shower."

She pinched his butt cheeks as he walked away. "Ok, don't take too long. I'm hungry."

He turned and peeled off his shirt. "Hungry for this?" He winked as he unbuttoned the fly of his pants.

She laughed, "Burgers first, lover boy. Go clean up."

Max laughed as he walked to his room. He showered as quickly as possible but he was distracted, hardening at the thought of being with her again. Sleeping with her. Waking up next to her. He loved how she wiggled her ass against his dick in the mornings, teasing him until he grabbed her hips, grinding into her. How wet her mouth and pussy were wrapped around his cock. The feel of her soft sleeping body lying next to him when he could touch her without disturbing her rest.

He dried off quickly and found some clothes in his closet. He pulled on some sweats and a t-shirt then went to help Avonlea gather the food to take back to her apartment. He froze when he saw her.

"What are you doing?" he demanded.

She stood there holding a scrapbook from one of August's boxes, her hand covering her mouth. "Oh, Max…I'm so sorry. I had no idea. I just thought it would be pictures." She looked at him with tears in her eyes.

"Get out," he snapped. He could feel the heat spreading throughout his body. Rage. Humiliation. They radiated from his pores.

"Max, please. I'm sorry. I—" she pleaded. She closed the book and laid it back in the box.

"I said get out!" He watched her flee as he raked his hands through his damp hair. He grabbed the scrapbook and tore it open. Newspaper clippings, headlines of a murder/suicide, pictures of his parents met his eyes.

This wasn't supposed to happen. She wasn't supposed to find out this way. He would have told her eventually. The way she looked at him. Her tear filled eyes full of pity. God, pity. He didn't want her pity. Or her fear. And that's all he probably had now. She would know he was broken. Know he came from a family of weak men. Men that killed their wives. How could she want him after that?

He fell to his knees, his body wracked with decades of anguish he'd never been allowed to express. He sobbed on his kitchen floor until he choked on his tears. He was weak. Avonlea was his weakness just as his mother had been his father's. He would do whatever he needed to have her.

Picking himself up off the floor, Max headed to the passages for the second time that day. He needed to see her. To see how disgusted she was. To see the revulsion in her eyes. He needed to know how far he'd have to go to win her back.

He saw her in her living room. Her eyes were eyes were bloodshot, nose red, tears sliding down her cheeks.

"I don't know how to fix this, Mom," she cried into the receiver. "What do I say? 'Sorry, I found your grandpa's collection of creepy articles about your dad killing your mom'? I mean, why couldn't I just leave the damn thing alone? I just thought maybe I'd see a baby picture or something. He was probably such a cute baby." She hiccupped as she caught her breath. "And he told me his grandfather hated him, and I didn't believe him. Can you imagine being raised by that?" She wiped at the tears with tissue and listened to whatever her mother said. "He probably doesn't want to see me again. I can't blame him. I invaded his privacy and brought up painful memories. And it was all going so well." Her breathing hitched and her eyes screwed up as she began to weep. "He's so amazing. I can't imagine what he's been through, and he rose above all that." She blew her nose and sniffled as she listened with an occasional weak agreement. "Ok. I love you too. I'll sleep on it and think about it in the morning. Night."

Max watched Avonlea hang up the phone and walk towards her bedroom. He walked the dark hallways around her apartment and found her in her bathroom. He stared at her through the mirror as she washed her face and took a medicine bottle from her cabinet. She filled a glass with water and swallowed the pill. She stared at the bottle for a moment before reopening it and taking another pill. She crawled in bed, pulling the covers over her shoulders. He could hear her crying herself to sleep. He waited.

* * *

Max entered her apartment through the hidden wine closet in the kitchen, and quietly made his way to her bedroom. He looked down at her marveling at this woman who still wanted him after knowing his family's past. Knowing that his father was a murderer and his grandfather cruel.

He pulled back the covers slowly, revealing her curves covered only in her tank top and lace thong. Stripping off his clothes he laid on his side facing her. He tucked her hair behind her ears, marveling at the softness of her skin. He placed a gentle kiss on her parted lips.

She was truly his. He knew that now. He'd heard her tell her mother their relationship was going well. Surely, she felt the same as he did. She must have thought of their future. He thought of little else.

His hands skimmed over her body, his hand lifting the weight of her breast, thumb rubbing her nipple as he felt the metal of her piercing move with his caresses. His hand traveled down her body under the waist of her panties. His fingers slipped between her folds stroking her until a sheen of wetness covered them.

He stroked his erection with her arousal coating his length before draping her leg over his hip. He pulled the thin fabric of her panties to the side and pressed into her pussy. He had to work himself into her, thrusting a little deeper each time. Eventually her body yielded, letting him sink himself into her wet warmth. He pressed her limp body against him, reveling in her closeness, the smell of her skin, the steady rhythm of her breath. He could feel the pressure building in his body. He pumped harder, his face buried in her neck, her pulse beating against his lips.

Max pulled out and rolled onto his back. He pumped his dick with a firm grip, thrusting hard into his fist. Warm splatters of cum hit his stomach as he shook from his release. He laid there for a moment recovering while Avonlea still slept peacefully next to him. He took two fingers and ran them through the deposits of his fluids then gently pushed them into her pussy, stroking her soft walls. He used a tissue from the night stand to clean the rest of his stomach off.

He dressed himself and tucked her back in, kissing her forehead before leaving. She was so beautiful when she slept. Tomorrow they would be able to fix everything.


	10. Chapter 10

Max had agonized over so many ways to talk to Avonlea over the next two days, each one weaker than the next. Hopes that she would seek him out first made avoiding the inevitable confrontation easier. So far, she seemed to be keeping her distance or giving him space. He hoped for the later.

Like so many times in his recent life, he found himself sitting alone in the dark. Watching, waiting. Waiting to see if his next gesture was met with anything other than disgust and loathing.

She had seemed genuinely upset that night. Had cried so many tears. Her eyes had been puffy and red the whole next day. But her silence bred doubt and fear in his mind. Had she decided it was for the best? That he wasn't worth the trouble? How could he blame her as he sat covered in dust and cobwebs?

Swaying on his stool, he listened to her bare feet pad across the floor as she made her way through her apartment, the little cough she used to clear her throat, her slight fingers clicking away at the keyboard, her voice as she talked her way through edits and revisions. All her sounds as endearing as they were arousing.

His forehead met the wood framing of the wall as he leaned gently against it. Breathing as he fought the urges she flamed inside him. His body ached with anticipation and lust. He had managed to keep himself from going to her at night. From seeking pleasures as she slept. Even from relieving his needs alone. It would make their reunion that much more memorable, more pleasurable to wait. And so he waited.

Max suddenly sat up as he heard the buzzing he had been waiting for. Carefully, he pulled open the peephole in the living room and watched her cross to the front door. Even in a large t-shirt and jeans she was beautiful. The sway of her breasts teased the lack of bra under her shirt. His jeans tightened as the thought of her breasts bouncing as she rode him overwhelmed his mind.

Thankful for the distraction, he spied her as she opened the door to receive the large bouquet of lilies he had delivered with a short apology on the card. It was enough to keep him from looking like an idiot, but it would put all the power in her hands. Hopefully, it would be enough to drive her back to his arms.

She smiled as she took the vase from the man and signed for the delivery. Closing the door behind her with her foot, she walked to back to the living room, placing the flowers on her coffee table before sitting and taking her cell phone off the side table. Her thumbs set off typing something at a furious pace. She chewed her finger as her eyes scanned the text. Hesitating for a moment, she tap the screen a final time.

Avonlea's head snapped in Max's direction as his pocket buzzed loudly. Fat fingers fumbled as he tried to close the spy hole, sliding a small board over the moveable plug, holding it firmly in place while trying to silence his phone simultaneously. Sweat beaded on his brow as he heard her move across the living room. The outlet straining against the board as her hand explored the wall.

Max struggled to rise silently. Making his way through the passageway, he checked to make sure all the other peepholes were secured on his way to his apartment. He locked the door in his closet, stripping his dusty clothes and jumping into a cold shower. Cleaning himself in record time, he heard a knock on his door as he wrapped a maroon towel around his waist.

Leaving a trail of puddly footprints in his wake, he walked to the door and peered out the door viewer to see Avonlea waiting in the hall.

He unlocked the door, opened it, and took in the surprise that bled into a blush as she took in his almost naked form, water running down his chest through his curls in rivulets until caught by the cotton of the towel. Her tongue licked her bottom lip, sucking it into her mouth as her teeth began to nibble on it.

"Hey," he said adding lamely, "Sorry, I just got out of the shower. Why don't you come in and give me a sec?"

Avonlea nodded mutely and followed him into his apartment. He left her in his still empty living room and threw on a white t-shirt and some sweatpants not bothering with any boxers. The last time he had worn these pants she had teased his cock through the soft fabric until he had begged her for more. She had knelt before him, sucked and stroked his length until he came down her throat while she practically purred, pleased with herself.

Approaching her as she looked out the window, his eyes sought the floor staring at the grain of the wooden boards beneath his feet. "I'm sorry," he whispered.

She spun around to face him. "Sorry? What do you have to be sorry for? I'm the one that should be sorry. And I am. I'm so so sorry. I shouldn't have invaded your privacy. I deserved to be yelled at, at the very least."

"No, you didn't. No one should ever yell at you." He raised his eyes to meet hers. Worry was etched in her face.

"Thank you for the flowers." She smiled shyly at him. "They're beautiful. Lilies are my favorite."

"I know."

They stared quietly at each other. For the first time in their relationship, neither knew what to say. The silence was unbearable.

"Was there something else that you needed?" he asked hesitantly.

"Oh—um—it's nothing. I'm sure it was just my imagination now."

"What is it?"

"I thought I heard a phone in my walls. I mean, now that I say it out loud it sounds nuts. I guess I'm just still paranoid." She shook her head and made her way to the door. "I'm sorry I interrupted your shower. I'll just go."

"Don't go." He reached for her hand, pulling her back. "I want you to come to me if you need anything. Anything at all no matter how crazy it sounds."

She turned to face him, tears shimmered in her eyes. "Can we just go back to the way things were?"

His hands reached for her face, cupping her cheeks. He tilted her face up and pressed a kiss to her lips. Her arms snaked around his waist, hands running up his back as she pressed into him. Taking her in his arms, he carried her to his room.

Sparsely furnished, his mattress rested on a plain metal frame. No headboard. No footboard. A lone night stand held a solitary lamp. The only new piece of furniture he had managed to buy since August's death was a tall grey cabinet opposite the bed with full length mullioned mirrored doors that housed his tv on the shelves and some clothes in a few drawers behind the doors.

He set her down standing in front of him. Hands tugged and pulled at clothing until every article lay on the floor around them. Sinking to his knees, he nuzzled her thighs, pushing her legs apart as she ran her hands through his thick hair. His tongue swept through her folds savoring the taste that had been denied to him for so long. He relished the pain he felt as her nails dug into his scalp when he sucked on her clit. He licked and nibbled her pussy until her legs quivered, and her balance wavered. He rose and tugged her towards the bed. She giggled as she stumbled after him.

He sat on the edge of his bed, positioning himself in front of his mirrored cabinet, and pulled her to him. Avonlea stood between his legs. She leaned over him, running her hands over his scruffy beard, and pressed her lips to his. His hands ran down her body resting lightly on her hips.

Quickly, he spun her away from him. She gasped as their kiss was broken. He pulled her back against him. Gripping her hips, he guided her onto his hard cock. He spread her legs over his until she was fully straddling him. He could see her lips spread and his dick glistening with her slick.

Her hips rocked and his hands roamed. Cupping her breasts, pinching her pierced nipples, and he felt her flutter around him as his hand rested on her throat. His eyes closed briefly as he kissed and bit her shoulders and neck, inhaling her scent deeply, committing it to memory.

Max's fingers found their way to her pussy, spreading her wetness over her swollen clit. He rubbed it in small circles, watching how her body arched and moved. She squeezed her breasts and threw her head back over his shoulder. He increased the speed of his fingers and took control as her pace faltered, pumping in strong hard thrusts until her orgasm washed over her. Watching her in ecstasy, was all he needed to join her.

Breathing heavily, and momentarily lightheaded from his release, he laid down, gently bringing her down on the mattress next to him. She rolled over facing him, wrapping her arms around him.

"I missed you," she whispered as she leaned her head against his chest.

"I missed you too." He kissed her forehead. "You know, I didn't actually get rid of everything."

"Yeah, I see you kept the mattress…smart. Good thinking."

"Well, it did come in handy, but actually, I… um…I saved all of August's old movies for you. I thought you might like them."

"You did? I know how much you didn't want to keep any reminders. Are you sure?" she said, her voice full of worry and uncertainty.

"He has all of Cary Grant's movies."

"All of them?" she asked.

"Yes."

"Sooo….now I have all of Cary Grant's movies?"

"Well, unless you think I should get rid of them?"

"Who am I to stand in the way of you giving me stuff I really want?" She laughed. "God, where am I going to put them all?"

"I can build you some cabinets if you want," Max suggested.

"Maybe you should build yourself some, first. You own a building and yet, you're living like a hobo."

"Why don't you come furniture shopping with me tomorrow? Save me from my minimalist existence."

"Only if you come to my work party next week. It's going to be so boring, but I have to go."

"Deal." He kissed her, sealing their agreement.

Throwing on his sweatpants, he went to the other room and brought in her box of movies, letting her choose one for them. It was the only time he left bed for the rest of the night. In her arms, the soft glow of Golden Era movies dancing across the room, he told her about his childhood, his parents, and August. He was as honest as he could be. Telling her everything she needed to know and sparing her the rest. Tomorrow he would board up the spy mechanisms in the passageway. He wouldn't need them anymore. He would never let her go again.


	11. Chapter 11

Everything had fallen back into place. Max had resumed sleeping at Avonlea's apartment. And even though there didn't seem to be much of a point to furnishing his apartment, Avonlea insisted that he go purchase furniture after he had put it off for a few days.

He let her drag him to store after store that she had looked up not, knowing what style he would prefer. He could have saved her the trouble and just told her to pick out the stores she liked best, but an entire day, just the two of them, was something he couldn't resist. Even if it was for shopping.

"You know, we've been to 3 stores already, and you still haven't managed to make any decisions. Heaven forbid the building ever needs renovations," she laughed as he stared at yet another couch.

"I don't have to sit on sconces or light fixtures. Couches have to look nice and feel good. There's a lot to consider. Come sit on this one."

He plopped down and patted the seat next to him. She sank into the plush cushion next to him. He threw an arm around the back of the couch. "See? Now this one is too fluffy." He leaned closer and his voice dropping to low whisper. "We need something firmer that can keep up with everything I want to do to you."

"Everything? Like what?" she asked, enjoying his lips brush against her ear.

"I'll have to show you later." He stood and offered her his hand.

"Tease," she pouted.

Max laughed, pulling her up, and kissed her forehead. "I'll make it up to you."

In the end, Max finally purchased a living room set and a small kitchen table with chairs. He made sure to pick colors and styles that would go with her apartment. When they finally moved in together, it would look as if they had always been together. No his and hers. Just theirs.

He refused to buy any furniture for August's old room, explaining that he hadn't decided what he wanted to do with it yet. But he knew full well they would need the space for a nursery eventually. If he was going to spend money on furniture for that room it would for a crib, changing table, and rocking chair. Maybe he'd paint the walls green. Green could go with pink or blue.

* * *

A few days later, Max sat in office, going over paper work and paying bills. He couldn't ignore the small voice in the back of his head. Avonlea's work party was coming up. The thought of having to socialize with all those stranger, making a good impression, and coming off as normal made his heart race. He wanted to be someone she could be proud of.

Most of all, though, was the thought of being formally introduced to Jason, Avonlea's agent. He had to make sure that he wouldn't recognize him. He only used cash while following him weeks ago, He kept his hood up all night to avoid cameras. What if Jason identified his voice? Why had he let himself get carried away? How would he explain to Avonlea that her crazy stalker was the same person she had sought comfort and protection from?

He had started concealing the evidence of his obsession with her at night while she slept peacefully. Replacing moveable outlets with stationary ones. Moving all his stools and lights to his storage room, removing all traces of his voyeurism. He thought about sealing the door to her kitchen, but the best he could do was replace the locks with old rusty ones so it looked as though it hadn't been used in decades. Finally, he covered the mirror with large sheet of ply wood he distressed during the day to give it the appearance of age. He would know soon if covering his tracks had been necessary.

Vibrations in his pocket dragged him from his thoughts. He pulled out his phone to see a text from Avonlea waiting for him.

 _I bought something special while we were furniture shopping. It arrived today. Thought you might like a preview._

His phone buzzed again as a video popped up in his messages. Eagerly, he pushed play.

He was not prepared to see Avonlea laying on her bed. Her hair spread out on her pillows. Bare shoulders teasing him. She smiled and winked then turned the camera away from her. The view changed to a reflected image of her laying naked on her bed. An image reflected from above her. She'd put a mirror on the ceiling.

His heart raced. He leaned back in his chair, spreading his legs, but it did little to relieve the tightness of his pants. He unbuckled his belt and popped open his fly. He propped his phone against an empty coffee mug at his desk.

Avonlea's hands traveled up her body, her eyes closing as she relaxed into her explorations. She squeezed her breasts, massaging their weight. Nimble fingers pinched and pulled her nipples, the silver of her piercings glinting in the light. Her legs opened as her right hand traced lightly own her abdomen. Her teeth bit her lower lip and her hips flexed as her fingers slipped through her slit, rubbing in slow circles. Her eyes opened, looking up at her reflection as she lifted her fingers to her mouth sucking them clean.

Max groaned and reached into his pants pulling out his hard cock. She knew. She knew he liked to watch. She knew and she didn't care. His hand pumped as he watched her reach onto her nightstand and grab her favorite vibrator.

The pink toy hummed loudly as she played with it, rubbing it through her lips. Her eyes were closed once more. Her breathing became heavy as she focused on her clit. Breathy moans sounded with every exhale, her hips rolled, knees spread further apart. Her free hand caressed her throat, flexing lightly on her pulse.

He watched her body undulating as the pressure built. He could tell she was close. He wanted to bury himself between her thighs. Feel the vibrations pulsating through her pussy as he thrust himself inside her. Watch her, feel her come undone around his cock. His grip tightened and pace quickened.

Her hand rose above her head, gripping her pillow as she cried out, her body stiffening as she came. His eyes squeezed tight. Hot thick jets of cum splattered against his fingers as he stroked himself through his own orgasm.

Panting, he opened his eyes and surveyed the damage. He grabbed some tissue and tried to clean himself up. The video had stopped, but his heart still pounding. Had he finally found someone who would understand him? Really understand him? Someone he didn't have to hide from. He'd always envisioned their future together, but never had he envisioned a life without shame.

* * *

The party was going full force, held in swanky art gallery. Everyone was dressed to the nines mingling, enjoying the drinks and hor d'oeuvres being circulated by servers in black and white. Max felt out of place. The lights, the noise, the crowd. He tried to focus solely on Avonlea. It wasn't hard. She was the most beautiful woman in the room in her blue dress and heels. He couldn't believe his luck at being the one she chose to be with.

Avonlea was doing her best to fill him in on the inner workings of her world. Publishers, editors, agents, and authors, mixed and spoke with one another. Some would stop and greet her, introducing themselves to Max. As they walked away, she would inevitably have some juicy tidbit to share about them. Drama and affairs abounded in their circles. She pointed out the women and men to befriend and to avoid.

"Is Jason one of those men?" he asked, taking a sip of his wine.

"Jason? Oh no. He's married. He may flirt and flatter, but he's never taken to the point of making me feel uncomfortable. But there are some people in the industry, let's just say you evade working with at all costs, even if it means holding back your own career."

Fury pounded through his veins. She was so talented and some asshole could keep her from achieving her dreams because she wouldn't stroke his ego or sleep with him?

"If anyone ever make you feel threatened or uncomfortable, you tell me, and I will take care of it," he promised.

She laughed and swatted his arm. "Oh, my own personal hitman. You do know how to woo a lady, don't you? I can take care of my career." She looked at the concerned grimace on his face. Smiling she added, "Don't worry, Max."

"And why are we worried about your career?" a voice asked behind them.

Spinning, Avonlea smiled and opened her arms to embrace Jason. "Jason, you are looking great. I'm so happy you're doing well." She looked back at Max, ushering him forward. "This is my boyfriend, Max. Max this is my agent, Jason."

The two men shook hands. Jason's grip was firm. Max had to fight the urge to squeeze harder in response. Jason was a few inches shorter than himself. His dark hair was slicked back. His suit tailored to fit him perfectly. Max suddenly wished, for the first time in his life, he hadn't bought off the rack.

"We were just talking about lecherous old men and unscrupulous rakes," said Avonlea conspiratorially.

"And I'm not on either of those lists, I hope," said Jason. "I've always seen myself as a charming anti-hero, myself."

Avonlea laugh pushing Jason's shoulder playfully. "Charming, yes. Anti-hero? Maybe we should ask Kristy. Is she here?"

"No, she's 34 weeks along now. The only thing she wants to socialize with is the couch." Jason sighed. "Her back hurts, and she's just not up for these kinds of gatherings right now. I won't be staying too long. I just need to be seen by a few people, then I'll slip away."

"Oooh. I wanna slip away," Avonlea said eagerly.

"No, you stay here. Meet some new people. Get your name out there. Let them all know how smart and amazing you are."

"Being smart and amazing is so hard," she complained.

Jason looked at Max. "It's up to you, I'm afraid, to make sure she behaves."

Max smiled shyly. "I'm not sure anyone could make her behave if she doesn't want to."

Jason's grin faltered and quickly recovered. "Sounds like every woman I know. I'll come say goodbye before I leave." He hesitated and added, "It was nice to meet you, Max."

Max tried to sound as cheerful as he could. "Same, Jason. Good luck with the new baby. Hope everything goes well."

"Thank you."

Max and Avonlea watched Jason walk away. They walked around the gallery perusing works from artists they weren't familiar with. She stopped every now and then to chat.

He left her side once to find them some more drinks. He needed it. His nerves were frazzled from all the introductions and sharing. He hated sharing Avonlea with these people that didn't deserve her. He started making his way back to her when he saw Jason with his coat on pulling her off to the side. The minute he saw Max coming, he straightened up and left. Max's heart stopped.

"What was that all about?" he asked as he handed her another drink.

"Oh, nothing." She looked upset. She took the glass but did not sip.

"It doesn't look like nothing from the frown on your face."

"Oh, I'm just tired. I–I'd like to go home now."

"Sure. I'll go get our coats."

What had Jason said to her? She had been fine. Now her whole demeanor had changed. Did he know? Had he told her?

Silence hung over them during the taxi, ride home. He wondered if he'd be allowed to stay the night. What was going in her mind? This was killing him.

She didn't object when he followed her into her apartment, but complained of tiredness and went straight to sleep. He laid in bed next to her. What was happening? Was he already losing her? He wrapped his arms around her, pulling her close to him, savoring the way she fit perfectly against him until he drifted off to sleep.

* * *

The next morning, he woke up alone. The light shone under the bathroom door. He waited for 20 minutes, but she didn't come out. He had to get ready for work. He had meetings with prospective tenants lined up all day.

He got out of bed and knocked on the door. "Avonlea, you okay?"

"Yeah, I'll be fine. I think it was too much wine or maybe some bad food last night. You just go to work."

"Are you sure? I can cancel my meetings."

"No. No. That's not necessary. I'll see you later."

"Okay, feel better. I'll call you later."

"Ok."

Max left and went to his own apartment. He showered and dressed. Ominous feelings followed him all day. Her silence last night. Avoiding him this morning. She barely had 3 glasses over the course of as many hours last night. She wasn't hung over. They ate all the same food. He was fine. His fears seemed to be confirmed. Jason must have told her something.

The day was long and torturous. Meeting with so many different people. Answering so many stupid questions. To make matters worse, Avonlea ignored all of his calls and texts.

Finally, he was able to go to her apartment. She couldn't ignore him forever. They had to talk about this. He knocked on her door and waited. No answer. He tried again.

After 10 minutes, he found himself behind the walls. He pried off the ply wood from the mirror. Grabbing his old stool, he sat and waited. Rocking, in his seat, he felt his teeth on his arm. Any pain was better than anxiety and panic racing through his body.

He waited in that dirty hallway another 2 hours. She wasn't home. Why wasn't she home? He slipped into her apartment. He walked around looking for anything that could give him answers. He found nothing in her kitchen, living room, or bedroom. There was nothing. He went into her bathroom. Everything seemed normal, until he opened the cabinet. Her tooth brush and make up bag were gone. He rushed to her closet. Her suitcase that lived on the top shelf was gone.

She left him. This was not part of his plan. She was supposed to be his. Despair grew into rage. If he couldn't have her, no one could.


	12. Chapter 12

Max paced along the dark passageway. Tears streaked his dust covered cheeks. One week. She had been gone one week. She'd left him with nothing but radio silence and his own dark thoughts.

He had begun to truly panic after the first 3 days. He had hoped it would turn out like last time, but his calls and texts remained unanswered. Her voicemail was now full.

He'd spent days stalking Jason, but Avonlea never entered or left his office building or house. He couldn't call him up. He'd only raise more suspicion. The less Jason heard his voice the better.

Still he had to know where she was. He tried her paperwork from her lease agreement but in his eagerness to get her to sign, he hadn't made her fill the thing out in its entirety. He didn't care about her previous place of residence…all that matter was she was his resident now. He snuck into her apartment and rifled through her desk looking for names or addresses.

He finally found a small black book in the back of a drawer. He flipped through the pages until he found a listing for "Mom and Dad". Writing down the address, Max headed back to his apartment for a shower. Clean and determined, he grabbed the keys to car he'd had since his youth and long since stopped driving.

Turning the car over, he slipped it into gear and started towards her. How could she leave him? Did she know about Jason? Was she afraid of him now? She had to know that he would never hurt her. Did she know how he watched her, came to her in the middle of the night? Was she disgusted? Endless reasons of why she should hate him played through his head as he drove.

Hours later he found himself watching her, as he always had, through her bedroom window hiding behind a copse of trees. She looked pale as she sat on the edge of her bed brushing her hair. She was still the most beautiful woman he'd ever seen.

Silencing his phone, he dialed her number. He watched her turn her head, and lean over reaching for her phone on the night stand. She stared at her screen then slowly touched her screen. The ringing in his ear stopped. Declined. Her face screwed up and she fell to her mattress, her back shaking in huge wracking sobs. His heart broke.

He felt numb and cold as he returned to his car and turned towards home. He knew now that August had been right. He didn't deserve to be happy. Had never deserved her. He was worthless. Weak. And now, she knew it too.

Before he realized it, he was home. He went through his apartment, into the passageway, and straight to hers. She would be leaving soon. Leaving him.

Max had no memories of a warm and happy childhood. The familiar scent of her apartment brought tears to his eyes. It was the first place he had ever wanted to call home. The first place he had felt loved. Felt worthy of love.

He went to her closet and pulled out her flowery sun dress. Holding the soft fabric to his face he breathed in her scent. He fell to his knees rocking as cradled the dress to him, wishing it was her in his arms.

Laying the dress out on her bed, he curled up next to it. Looking above him, his reflection was startling. His eyes were red and swollen. His cheeks seemed thinner. He supposed he hadn't been eating regularly since she left. What was the point? He closed his eyes, laid a hand on the dress, and envisioned her next to him in a time not so long ago when she loved him.

* * *

Another week had passed and still no word from Avonlea. He didn't drive back to see her, to confront her. He couldn't bear to see her in so much pain and to know he was the cause of it. He sat at his desk going over repair requests, making a list of things he needed like light bulbs and air filters. Movement on the screen switching from security camera views of the front door, lobby, and elevator caught his eye. Avonlea was standing in the elevator.

His heart froze. Was she here to collect her things? He looked out his window onto the street. There wasn't a moving van. He tried not to get his hopes up. He paced in office wrestling with his self-control. And as always he had none.

* * *

Max stared at the dark wood of her door. His hand raised and knocked. His felt his stomach lurched as the lock clicked and door slowly opened.

Avonlea looked up at him. Dark circles lined her eyes that widened as she realized who stood in front of her.

"Max," she whispered. She stepped back and motioned him in.

He turned and watched her close the door. He wrung his hands in front of him not knowing how he could make this right. She turned back, facing him and stepped closer.

The pain on her face was too much for him. He couldn't take it. He dropped to his knees in front of her. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry." He grabbed her waist and leaned his head against her abdomen felt her stiffen against him.

"Sorry? For what?" her voice cracked.

"For—for–," he faltered. Did she really not know? Was she testing him? "For whatever it was that made you leave. Please don't leave me again."

Avonlea started crying. "It wasn't you." She lowered herself to the floor. She placed her hands on his cheeks, forcing him to look at her. "Max, it wasn't you. It's just—God—it's me. I'm—I'm pregnant. I was too scared to tell you. I didn't know what to do."

"What? Scared? Why? Wait—you're pregnant?"

She nodded, wiping tears from her cheeks. "I was so scared. I thought—I thought you'd think I cheated on you because, you know, you said you couldn't have kids. I'm so sorry. There hasn't been anyone else. I swear."

Max stared at her. Could this really be happening? "Sorry?" he asked as a smile spread across his face revealing his dimples. "Avonlea, this is wonderful. It's a miracle. How can I be anything but happy?"

"You're happy?" she asked hiccupping.

"Aren't you?" He wiped the tears that were still flowing from her face.

"I hadn't really given myself a chance to feel anything but worry."

"Our baby is something to celebrate. Something to be excited about. I can't believe it. I'm going to be a father. We're going to be a family." Smiling, he took her hands. "Avonlea, will you marry me?"

Her eyes lowered. "Max, you don't have to ask me just because I'm pregnant."

"I'm not. I've loved you since the moment I saw you. I can't live without you. These past few days have been the worst of my life. I need you, Avonlea. Say you'll be mine."

For the first time since she left, she smiled. "Yes. Yes I'll marry you." She flung her arms around his neck. He wrapped his around her waist, pulling her to him. Standing, their lips met. Their kiss deepened as a sense of urgency, of need drove their passion.

He reached down and pulled his shirt over his head just as his pocket began to buzz. He squeezed the side of his phone to decline the call, but it rang again as he started to pull on hers.

"Max," she said in between kisses. "Max, you should get that. It could be important."

"Nothing's more important than you." But no sooner had he said it, his phone rang again. He looked at his phone. It was the tenant in one of the apartments on the top floor. They had requested him to replace the batteries in their fire alarm that had been going off since this morning. "Shit I'm so sorry. I just have to take care of something. I'll be back soon." He looked her pouting face. "Real soon, I promise, and we can pick up right where we left off." Several kisses later he was out the door.

* * *

Max returned hours later after replacing batteries. He knocked on the door, arms full of bags. Avonlea opened the door and laughed.

"What is all that?" she asked.

"You'll see." Max headed to the kitchen and placed all the bags on the island. "I picked up a few things for you. I wasn't sure if you've been craving anything yet." He started unloading the bags and feeling uncomfortable as she started staring at the items he pulled out and put away in her cabinets.

"You got my favorite cookies, chocolates, chips, and bottled water?" she asked.

He pulled out a journal and a new box of her favorite rainbow pens. "I also got this in case you wanted to keep tabs on the pregnancy."

He watched in horror as her face screwed up and she started crying. What had he done wrong?

"You know all my favorite things? How do you– I'm such a horrible person. I don't know any of yours. I don't even know your favorite color."

Max smiled and hugged his bride to be. "My favorite color is the color of your eyes." He kissed her forehead. "My favorite scent is the smell of your hair. My favorite flavor is the taste of your kiss." He kissed her, letting his tongue explore hers until she hummed in pleasure. "My favorite song is the sound of your moans," he whispered in her ear. He lifted her in his arms, her legs wrapped around his waist before he set her on the island. "You are my favorite everything."

Avonlea unbuttoned her shirt as Max quickly removed his. She tried to wiggle out of her pants and undies, giggling when he had to help maneuver them off. She tugged at his belt, succeeding in only pulling it tighter. His hands took over, loosening the leather and popping his fly. Avonlea reached behind her, unclasping her bra and tossing it on the floor. She placed her hands on his shoulders and pulled him towards her. He fumbled to push his jeans off his hips and stumbled forward. Her hands reached between them, squeezing his cock and lining it up with her pussy.

"Please, Max. I need you now," she begged.

He spread her legs further and thrust into her. Their moans of relief after what seemed an eternity of separation echoed off the walls. His hands gripped her thighs, and he shuddered as her nails raked down his back.

"Harder," she moaned.

Max quickly adjusted his pace. The doors on the island creaked as their hinges shook with each thrust. She spread her legs further and tilted her hips so the base of his dick rocked against her clit. She leaned back on her hands, her head leaning back, her pussy tightened around him; her orgasm quickly milking him of any self-control as he came deep within her.

They found themselves in bed hours later lazily exploring each other's bodies and talking. Talking about their future. Talking about the baby.

But there was something Max needed to know. "What did Jason say the night of the party that upset you?"

"Oh, well. He didn't upset me directly. He just asked me how well I knew you. How long we had been together. I told him we got together after his 'accident.' He told me to be careful. That maybe we shouldn't be going so fast. I started thinking…about us and how quickly everything between us happened…that's when I realized I was late. I snuck out the next morning for a test. It was positive, and I freaked out. I'm really sorry."

He wrapped his arms around her, watching his arm stroke her arm in the mirror above them. His anxiety started melting away. "Just don't disappear on me again. I don't know what I would do if I ever lost you."

"I won't. I won't ever leave you again."

He knew he would do whatever he needed to make sure she stayed. She was his. She belonged to him. And she always would.


	13. Chapter 13

Max stared at the screen in front of him, transfixed on the sleeping form. He would never get enough of her. The way her chest rose and fell with every breath. The small sweet sighs as she dreamt. He couldn't believe she was his.

* * *

In the last year, Max had known more happiness than he had ever thought possible. He and Avonlea married in a quiet ceremony with her family at their home. Their honeymoon was spent drawing up plans for renovations then demoing. Max spent every free moment working to combine their apartments to make it their home. He had set up security cameras around the apartment convincing Avonlea that with a baby on the way, they needed a way to monitor any babysitters or nannies if they needed one, when he actually just needed to be able to see Avonlea, watch her, since the remodeling had destroy most of his secret spots. He sealed the rest himself.

Avonlea quit her editing job and enjoyed writing full time. Whenever she couldn't take the noise and mess, she stayed with her parents who were only too happy to have her. It was a strain on his energy and resources, but he finished within half a year.

Their life together had been an adjustment. Getting used to sharing everything with another, to no longer have to sneak and hide, had taken some getting used to. But he still savored the moments when he could listen to her sing in the shower outside the door or watch her dance while she cooked when he came home. He delighted in her changing body. Her belly swelling as their baby grew inside her. A visual representation of their love. He could never bring himself to feel guilty for his actions when he felt a kick whenever he placed his hands over her tummy.

He worried about what type of father he could possibly be. He knew he would do whatever he could to keep Avonlea happy, but he knew nothing about babies. How could he makes sure he didn't turn into his father? Or worse…August.

* * *

"Hey. Turn that off and get some sleep, Max. She's fine," his wife's voice grumbled behind him as she spooned up next to him.

Max leaned over and turned the video baby monitor off, the picture of his infant daughter disappearing. He rolled over wrapped his arms around Avonlea. His hand rand up her thigh, pulling her leg over his thigh.

"You're supposed to be getting some sleep," Avonlea said with a sleepy giggle.

His hands dipped between her legs, rubbing her satin panties dampening with every pass of his fingers. He kissed her neck and whispered, "You're going to have to make me." She sighed and rocked her body against his fingers.

The cry of their daughter rang down the hall. "Never fails," Avonlea laughed. Max chuckled and threw the covers off of himself. His feet hit the cold wood floors as he padded his way to the nursery.

"What's the matter with my baby girl?" His voice instantly soothed the teething infant. He picked her up and took her to the changing table. Pulling up her nightgown, he changed and cleaned his daughter while talking to her in a low soothing voice. "There you are pretty girl. That feels better doesn't it?"

He carried the baby to the kitchen and heated up a bottle for her all the while rocking her in the crook of his arm. He loved taking care of her. Knowing that he was a source of comfort for her. He had never slept much before she was born, so letting Avonlea skip a feeding seemed only fair.

He gave his daughter the bottle to nurse from and sought out the comfort of the rocker recliner in her room. He hummed a song and rocked as she drank. Soon the baby's mouth hung open, milk leaking out of the corner of her mouth. He smiled and lifted her to his shoulder, his large hand patting her back until a small burp escaped. "Good night, Sara." He laid her down gently, placing a kiss on her head.

As he entered his bedroom, he saw Avonlea laying on her side, the baby monitor shining on her sleeping face. He knew he wasn't the only one that couldn't get enough of how parenthood had changed their life. She loved watching him with Sara as much as he loved watching her.

They were a perfect match in so many ways.

The End.


End file.
